SHINE
by Pike2
Summary: TORCHWOODXDW. Ianto teams up with Martha to save both the Doctor and Jack from a lizard like race. But a secret and an old enemy will affect all of them. Epilogue posted.
1. Chapter 1

**SHINE**

Chapter 1

_You're Such A Big Star To Me_

He stood before it on the rain soaked streets, the newly laid cobbles becoming islands at his feet. The noise of the city was stifled by the steel of the sky, yet he seemed impervious to its storm. He tentatively reached out to touch its surface just to confirm its presence and was surprised to find some of the paint flake onto the tips of his fingers. He rubbed the colour between them but the deluge soon washed the blue flecks to the gutter.

He hesitated as the rain bounced off the grey stones, streaming down the back of his neck to soak his cotton shirt. He took a deep breath and reached for the key, hidden like himself, in his clothes. The attached chain pooled in his hand as he closed his grip around it. He thought a while longer before placing it in the lock and opened the antiquated door.

Martha Jones looked up from the console as the man entered the TARDIS, her hand reaching for the pink handled pistol that lay just within her grasp. She watched him drink in the interior, apparently so overwhelmed that he was oblivious to her being there.

He turned slowly, letting his eyes grow accustom to the glow from the many lights embedded in the curve of the walls. Around him bronze columns, like sculptured trees, bowed and spread to the sepia glow of the domed ceiling, while draped over their Spartan branches looped thick, black cables which showed signs of countless repairs. These fed into the top of a control console, which stood like a gargantuan in the centre of the room. He took a slight step forward and smiled at the chaotic array of cosmic junk that was welded on the circular panel, antique components and alien crystals, yet he knew _she_ was more than the sum of _her_ parts; the TARDIS was sentient. He closed his eyes and let himself drift on the resonate mummer of _her_ core, that part mechanical, almost human sound that made him reflect on life inside the womb.

"There are other rooms just as breath-taking." The cultured voice broke through his reprieve and he opened his eyes to see a barrel of a gun aimed in his direction.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" Martha kept her tone firm, even if her grip on the pistol wavered slightly.

He met her challenging stare and for a moment the mix of purpose and anxiety in her soft brown eyes reminded him of someone else; someone still in the scars of his heart. He raised his hands to show his compliance, sprinkling the floor with droplets of rain.

He swallowed, her hand twitched for an answer. He tried a disarming smile as the silk of his accented voice bridged the tension. "My name is Ianto Jones and I'm here to see Captain Jack Harkness."

* * *

My thanks to SZM for the Beta 


	2. You're Everything I Want To Be

**SHINE**

**Chapter 2**

_You're Everything I Want To Be_

Ianto looked around, still mindful of the gun. "Is he here Miss..?"

Martha stayed focus. "Ianto Jones," the name fell easily from her lips. "You work for Torchwood." It wasn't a question.

He nodded, "I see Jack has been here," his eyebrows rose with the statement.

"The same Torchwood that has orders to apprehend the Doctor," she continued, the pistol daring him to deny it.

"Yes," he said plainly, "and as you can see I came here mob handed. I hear the Doctor is a tricky fellow to_ apprehend_." His face remained bland but the richness of voice held a hint of wit.

Martha remained steadfast, "with_ just_ a key…"

"Well the TARDIS is a museum piece; I wouldn't want it damaged before it could be hermetically sealed down in the Torchwood archives, now would I?" He took a step forward, his eyes appealing to her better nature.

"And were you planning on sealing me in with it?" There was just a trace of playfulness in her voice.

"That's all according on whether you're human Miss…?" He tried again.

"Jones, Martha Jones, from Earth," she added, relaxing her grip on the weapon with a soft sigh.

Ianto smiled, "a good name whatever galaxy you're from." He held out a wet hand; she hesitated and then took it, squeezing the water from his grasp with a solid shake.

"Sorry," he said, taking the folded handkerchief from his jacket pocket and wiping the wet appendage.

He watched her as she considered her next question. "Where did you get the key?" She asked. "The Doctor's very particular about who he gives those to, or did Torchwood just happen to acquire one?"

The young man shook his head, "it was given to me," he replied, his face presenting no further clues.

"Really?" It was more a question than a comment.

"Yes." Ianto deftly steered the conversation in another direction, looking towards the pistol. "So, would you have shot me?"

Martha shook her head. "No, Jack's mention you a few times in passing," she confirmed, a sad frown furrowing the smooth cinnamon of her skin, "usually with regards to my coffee making skills."

Ianto watched her face cloud with emotion. "So, is he here, Miss Jones?" He asked, his voice thinning slightly.

"Martha." She offered.

"Martha," he repeated, his heart sinking in the dewiness of her stricken stare.

The young woman shook her head and turned away. "No, neither of them are," she whispered. "We ran into a problem on a planet called Vobis the Doc wanted to consult the great archive they have there."

She walked over a row of plush chairs and sat down, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees.

Ianto followed, the Cardiff streets trailing each step in tiny puddles. He took another of the seats and waited. She shook her head again, nervously toying with a tendril hair, which had escaped from its ornate clip. "Only Vobis is under new leadership. A race called the Erusions invaded the planet while we were there."

She looked at him, her voice shaking slightly. "The Doctor was quite surprised by their progress apparently only two Millennia ago the Erusions were clinging to trees and living off the swamp." She let out gentle snort that turned into a reflective smile. "He's full of valuable information like that."

She swiped a hand over her forehead, "but, to be honest you could see a trace of their lizard ancestry in the bulge of their eyes and the random green patches of scales over their skin." Her gaze shifted, a sad smile playing with her lips. "Jack seemed a little too fixated with the length of their tongues." She fell silent.

Around them the TARDIS hummed reassuringly.

"What happened?" Ianto gently prompted, his heart stretching in his chest.

"It seems their leader, Dacia, wants to manipulate time for his own ends that was one of the reasons he invaded; he thought he could find the answer in the archive."

She looked at him, her expression troubled. "And now he has a Time Lord," she whispered.

"So they are unharmed?" Ianto noted.

"The last I saw of them, yes, but Dacia has no conscience, no qualms about abusing someone to get the information he desires. He's as cold as his blood." She bit into her lip.

"How did you escape?" He asked gently.

Again her forehead knotted with recollection, "The Doctor and Jack sacrificed themselves to get me and TARDIS as far away from Dacia as possible. So here I am, stuck here, unable to rescue them." She let out a frustrated sigh.

"You can't operate the TARDIS, then?"

Martha shook her head. "No, the Doctor used his sonic screwdriver, like a remote, to send us here once I was safely inside."

Ianto stood up and removed his jacket, revealing the spread of a tidemark on, what was once, a crisp white shirt.

He walked around the disk of the central console, cataloguing the myriad of levers, valves, switches and gauges, letting his fingertips linger over its surface while his inquisitive mind tried to grasp its complexities.

Martha shadowed him, observing as he quietly analysed the core of the TARDIS. He sighed, crossing his arms about his body.

"So, can you work the controls?" Martha asked, hesitantly.

He sighed again, looking at her. "There was a whole department, in Torchwood One, dedicated to discovering how the TARDIS operates." He gave her the sweetest of smiles. "I saw a manual once, with schematics."

She stepped forward, "so you can activate _her_?" There was still a certain amount of cynicism in her voice.

He leant forward over a series of dials, "in theory," he replied with an uncertain grimace.

Martha sighed, "_In theory_, well that's just…" She didn't finish.

There was a sudden rush of air and the central core began to pulsate. "What did you do?" Martha asked, stepping to the console.

"It wasn't me," Ianto replied calmly, watching the rise and fall of the inner glass tube. "I think _she_ decided it was time to go."


	3. But You're Stuck In A Hole

SHINE

Chapter 3

_But you're stuck in a hole and I want you to get out_

* * *

They didn't know how long their journey would take so, at Martha's insistence, Ianto took the opportunity to change out of his wet clothes while she treated a wound to her side where a guard had taken a swipe at her.

She smiled when he came back; he'd exchanged one pinstriped suit for another, only this one had bold black and white bands.

She sat back, her soft lips widening against her honeyed skin. "You look a bit like a gangster."

Ianto's hand went instinctively to the jacket, pulling it against his lean frame. "It was the only thing that would go with my shoes," he parried, looking down at their polish.

"I guess white Converse trainers aren't your thing then?" She asked.

He gave her a contemptuous glare as he smoothed down the collar of the black shirt he had _borrowed_. "I must confess I feel a little naked without a tie."

"I don't think Erusions will notice." She informed him ironically.

He gave a nod, rubbing something between his thumb and forefinger. "What's that?" she asked.

"Jack's tracking device, it's a button from his coat," he handed it to her and pulled out a PDA from his jacket pocket; a small green dot blinked on the screen. "I discovered it back there."

Martha studied the button, focusing on the tiny chip on its back. She looked back at Ianto, "I guess Jack didn't want to be found." She said softly, handing it back to him.

He gave a tired nod and slid seamlessly into the chair beside her. "Do you require any assistance?" He asked indicated to the wound.

"Nah, I've got it covered, medical training," she replied in way of explanation.

"Of course," he acknowledged, resting his gaze on the movement of the console.

"Ah, so have I got my own file at Torchwood?" Martha balled an antiseptic wipe.

"A few pages, nothing of any real depth," he answered candidly.

Ianto turned his attention back to the medical student. "So, is it everything you imagined?" He inclined his head.

She gave a triumphant smile that outshone the dim lighting, "and more," her tone was warm.

His looked away. "You never thought about turning him down or going back to your old life?"

"The Doctor can be very persuasive and anyway who would pass up an opportunity to travel the universe and time," she added.

"Many have." His expression was lost somewhere beyond their conversation. "The Doctor and danger seem to walk hand in hand."

"That's true, but he needs me," she defended, "well, he needs someone. He's like a lonely child, needing someone to impress, needing someone to share his world with. I think he gets a kick just watching my wonder and excitement at all the things he shows me; his life can be somewhat intoxicating."

Ianto nodded blankly. "Yes it can but what about when he's had enough of all your _wonder and excitement_ and dumps you back into the stream of everyday life? Will it be enough for you, Martha Jones when you know what's out there?"

She stared at him, "life's what's you make it," she answered more coldly than she'd intended, "and anyhow maybe this will make me a better person."

He smiled, masking his resentment. "I expect you were a good person before you started this journey," he whispered. "He only travels with the best."

"That's what I heard," Martha returned, relaxing into a little grin. "You seem to know a lot about the Doctor, are you some Torchwood fanboy or something?"

Ianto gave a small snort, "no, far from it," he said acrimoniously. "Did you know you're one of a long list of so called _companions_ that travel with the Time Lord?"

"I knew I wasn't the only one, he told me about Rose," she answered confidently.

"Really, what did he tell you?" Ianto challenged.

Martha regarded him a moment before answering. "That he'd lost her," she voiced quietly.

Ianto's expression withdrew somewhere within, the formality returning to his tone. "She was killed." He said bluntly, the half light making a shadow of his face.

Martha looked away. "Oh."

There was a brief pause. Martha tucked the used pad away in a plastic bag and discarded it. "So, Ianto Jones, why did you join Torchwood?"

He stood up to stretching the kinks from his back. "To answer some questions," he said plainly, sucking in a lung full of air.

Martha gracefully crossed her legs. "And have you?"

A smile lit his perceptive blue eyes, "no, not all of them."

She was about to quiz him further but he sidestepped her enquiry skilfully. "I suppose there are no weapons on board?"

Martha shook her head. "What about this?" He picked up the small pistol, turning it in his hand.

She laughed. "It's a lighter. Jack picked it up in an Argunan market on Tetchentoff 5."

Ianto pulled the trigger; a small pink flame appeared from the barrel. He gave a perplexed sigh, "well it's nice to see the obsession with useless tat is universal."

She took the lighter from his hand, "it also plays some sort of jingle," she squeezed the barrel and waited. After a while a monotonous tune piped around the room. "There's a thirty second pause, apparently it's a Temporal Tune."

Ianto raised an impeccable eyebrow. "So we have a pistol that will annoy them to death and a vial of Weevil spray," he tapped his top pocket carefully.

"Weevil spray?" she asked.

Ianto frowned slightly, ignoring her question. "I only hope it has the same effect on lizard type creatures."

"Well I guess we'll find out." She sighed, none the wiser. "So, do you do this a lot?"

He frowned. "Fieldwork?" She enlightened.

Ianto gave a flicker of a smiled, "no, I'm just a receptionist."

Again she tried to read his deadpan expression, "really?" She asked uncertainly.

"Well, I also make the coffee," he added reassuringly.

Martha glared at him and then gave up; his air was one of pure innocence. "I guess we have the element of surprise," she said softly.

"I guess we do," he answered, taking the seat beside her once more and reclining back.

Martha reached for a red sweater and pulled it over her head, wrapping herself in its warmth. She fiddled with the frayed ends on the cuff, "so Jack's your boss..." She posed.

Ianto turned his head lazily toward her, "yes," he answered, his rich voice hesitant.

She carried on pulling on the ragged edges, winding the red yarn absently round her finger. "So what's he like to work for?" She looked up at his unsettled gaze.

Ianto sighed and leaned back into the worn padding of the headrest. "He's Captain Jack Harkness," he responded, "brash, self-assured and as large as life," his mouth twitched slightly, "and not that easy to kill."

Martha tucked her feet up onto the chair and stretched the sweater over her knees. "That's why the Doc wanted to view the archives, to see if he could find a solution to Jack's little problem."

"His immortality," Ianto whispered, grasping, now, why Jack had left with the enigma known as the Doctor.

Martha nodded. "The Doc was a little shocked when the TARDIS picked him up; apparently he thought Jack had died on some space station." She wrapped her arms around her knees.

Ianto gave a ghost of a laugh, "and how did Jack take to the Doctor's regeneration?"

She looked up into his arcane eyes, amazed at his detailed knowledge of the Time Lord. He answered her unspoken question. "I get to read a lot of files on the reception desk, it helps pass the time."

She shook her head, "I only found out about this regeneration business when Jack turned up. Jack keeps comparing _my_ Doctor with his predecessor, and that really rubs him up the wrong way, and the Doc, well he really thinks that Jack…" She stopped.

"Really thinks what?" Ianto encouraged.

She sighed, "that Jack shouldn't be here."

He knew she didn't mean the TARDIS. "He told you that?"

"I heard them arguing," she confessed, "the two of them have been a little tetchy around each other ever since.

The TARDIS's engines began to drone, signalling they had arrived at their destination.

Martha stood first, "well, looks like we've landed," she tugged at the hem of the long sweater letting it fall past her knees.

"But who knows if it's even the right place," she added, walking to the door.

Ianto stood behind her, "I guess there's only one way to find out."

Martha inhaled, "well, here goes nothing," she said, showing him her crossed fingers as she began to unlock the door.

"Well?" Ianto asked as she peered out.

Martha looked over her shoulder at him; her eyes held a hesitant look. "I'm not sure."

She flung the door open to reveal that they had materialised in an underground cavern.

Ianto raised his eyebrows, "nice," he commented, looking at the glassy stretch of walls. "Let's hope there's a way out."

Martha turned back into the TARDIS and grabbed a couple of torches that were hanging from a cast-iron rack.

She handed one to Ianto; he smiled. "After you then," he said with a theatrical bow.

"Gee thanks," Martha replied, stepping out of the police box onto hard rock.

She shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. The crisp air held a trace of sulphur as it drifted on the uneven flux of an underground stream. She let her torch illuminate the thick brown water. "Oh God it reeks. Of all the places to land…"

Ianto followed her out seemingly unfazed by the smell. He shone his torch around the span of the cavern, fascinated by the smooth formation of rock. "Maybe it was to avoid detection, there doesn't seem to be any sort of cameras or sensors down here..."

"The defence systems were knocked out in the invasion; apparently fixing them isn't on the Erusions' list of priorities." Martha informed him, raising her voice slightly over the glutinous flow. "And after meeting them, I really don't think they're that capable."

She looked over at him again, her breath solidifying in the cold air. "How come you're not affected by the smell?"

Ianto gave a wry smile. "Many an hour spent in Cardiff's sewers, catching the odd wayward Weevil." He retorted with a shrug.

She still had no idea what a Weevil was. "I thought you said you didn't do fieldwork."

"Overtime," was the dry response as he brandished the torch over the ebb of water.

"Overtime," Martha muttered under her breath. "Well let's see if we can find a way out." She pulled the rolled neck of her sweater forward.

"That looks a good place to start." He said, illuminating a metal ladder.

She turned on her heels and shone the light in his face. "You know, you're really beginning to creep me out. You're not related to the Doctor are you?"

His expression remained virtuous, "I can assure you I've never met him Miss Jones."

"Martha." She said with a frustrated sigh.

"Martha." He acknowledged with a slight incline of his head.

"Right," she continued, moving closer to the ladder.

"Would you prefer if I went first?" Ianto asked.

Martha glared at him, "no, it's fine, I've got it."

She stared at the metal rungs which were varnished with a sheen of ice crystals, "it's a bit colder than I remember."

Ianto remained silent. She bit her lip and followed the stretch of the ladder to a small hatch above. "You best stay here," she said, "I'll climb up and have a gander at what's up there."

He nodded and pulled the collar of the jacket up to combat the bitter air.


	4. I Don't Know What There Is To See

SHINE

Chapter 4

_I don't know what there is to see  
_

"Well at least we know we're in the right place," Martha whispered as Ianto slid the hatch back into place.

"Vobis?" He enquired, rubbing his hands together in an attempt to warm them.

"The archive," she whispered, peering down from the gantry onto the sterile research cubicles.

Ianto walked the short distant along the cramped access corridor to join her. "This is the archive?" A hint of awe fluttered across his youthful features.

"Yes," she answered, watching as he surveyed the vacant room.

"It seems to be empty enough," he observed, his gaze following the orderly rows of unoccupied booths.

"Well, I hardly think the Erusions' are letting visitors in," she replied.

"Quite," he acknowledged, his rich accent making the most of the word.

He brushed passed her and began to descend the metal staircase. "The Doc says it holds written works from all over the known universe." Martha called after him, leaning on a rail, "even those that have been destroyed or lost over time."

Ianto stopped at the first cubical. Its narrow interior held nothing but a crescent shaped, Perspex desk. "Step inside," Martha invited, joining him by the open compartment.

He hesitated but smiling, she grabbed his arm and led him into the narrow recess; the booth glowed as they entered. Martha placed her torch down and positioned her hand on the centre of desk, closing her eyes; a soft light bathed them from above.

"Scroll, Dead Sea, Qumran, Israel," an androgynous voice acknowledged.

Ianto watched as a 3D image of wrapped papyrus appeared in the shimmering beam. Martha removed her hand, "you can touch it if you want," she informed him, watching for his reaction.

Ianto's eyes held a look of scepticism as he tentatively brushed his fingertips against the mpression and felt the scroll's fibrous surface.

He looked at her too stunned to speak. "Its amazing, isn't it? You can actually unroll it and view the inscription, the archive has the ability to translate the data for whoever's reading it. The Doc showed me an ancient Chinese medical text," she added, with an amazing smile.

Ianto's keen gaze, once again, rested on the image suspended in the effervescent shaft of light. He stepped out of the booth and followed its stream up to the lucent dome above them. Small bursts of light pulsed along filaments, crisscrossing the arched membrane, steering a path to their cubicle.

"Intuitive technology, just like the one at the Hub," he whispered, using his torch to track the route of the microscopic flashes.

"Pardon?"

Ianto glanced back at Martha. "It's alive," he simplified.

She nodded. "Yep, a living brain, the Vobians grew it to house all their collective data." She stepped out of the cubicle, the light inside extinguished.

Martha looked up at the arch of ceiling which was marbled with thought. "They have this device which copies the whole book, or whatever, from front cover to back and the archive reproduces it."

Ianto acknowledged this with a tilt of his head, "I believe such a device came through the rift," he commented, turning his attention back to her. "You seem to know a lot about this place."

Martha gave him a warm smile. "The Doctor likes to lecture with enthusiasm," she replied with a roll of her eyes. "Maybe you'll find those answers you're looking for, here" she posed, nearing his shoulder.

Ianto stepped away from her closeness, "I don't think I'll find them in books," he responded quietly, turning his gaze back to the dome.

"So, any ideas where they could be holding Jack and the Time Lord?" He invited.

She gave a small sigh and shook her head. "No, I don't think Vobis is the kind of place to have prisons. The Vobians seemed a non-violent race."

He nodded, "so, we could be looking for a secure broom cupboard somewhere then."

She smiled, "Maybe we could ask one of…"

The metallic hiss of a door sliding open made them both look back to the access corridor. Martha made a grab for Ianto's lapel and pulled him towards an exit at the far side of the room. "You find your reflexes sharpening after spending time with the Doctor," she offered apologetically as she pushed him under a nearby flight of metal steps; a row of booths shielded their position from the approaching footsteps.

Two guards appeared on the gantry, surveying the archive with attentive jerks of their heads while the ribbon of their purple tongues stretched into the air around them.

Ianto swore in Welsh. "What?" Martha mouthed, placing a silencing finger to his lips.

"Lizards detect their prey by absorbing the scent particles in the air," he whispered.

Martha looked toward the flick of the guards' tongues. "They're stood exactly where we were, they can track us," she realized, puckering her brow.

Ianto nodded. Martha turned her attention to the exit, which was a few feet away. "Maybe we can make a run for it." She suggested.

The Welshman watched the guards cautiously descend the stairs at the far side of the room. "They have guns, really big guns." He countered, above the sound of their chain-metal gait.

"Right," she sighed, biting the inside of her cheek.

One of Erusions warily entered the booth they had visited earlier. He emerged a few moments later with a torch which he handed to his companion. The other guard inspected the flashlight, the flat pads of his fingers inadvertently depressing the control switch; it toppled to the floor as the beam blinded him.

"I must've left it," Martha confessed, showing her empty hand.

Ianto turned to her, a small smile playing on his lips, "perhaps we can use this to our advantage."

"How?" She said a little too loudly, making the guards stop for a moment.

Martha watched as he hastily began to empty his pockets, "take off your jumper."

"My what? Look, we've only just met; I really don't think this is the time to be playing Captain Jack..?" She stammered as he stripped off his jacket, reaching inside to retrieve a letter.

"Your jumper!" Ianto hissed. Martha promptly pulled it over her head.

"Put this on," he handed her the jacket.

She watched him as he grabbed her sweater and stretched it between his hands. He pushed his frame through the garment, rolling his shoulders against its restraint as he tried to widen it; the wool creaked in rebellion. "With any luck this'll mask our individual scent," he offered, tugging at the close-fitting neck.

Martha shivered as the cold air crept along her exposed skin; she snatched the jacket from Ianto. "Because…?" She asked, enfolding herself in his residual warmth and light aftershave.

"You're going to get caught," he answered with a persuasive smile.

She gave him a questioning look and then her face bloomed with understanding. "And they'll take me where they have the Doctor. Great, I get to play 'victim' again," she replied with a soft snort.

Ianto nodded and handed her Jack's button, "I'll track you using this." He tapped the PDA in his trouser pocket.

She took the device and slipped it into the jacket. "Sounds like a plan," she offered.

Martha watched as he gently folded the letter and shifted his body weight so he could place it in his back pocket; she caught a glimpse of the handwritten envelope, it had the word 'Doctor' on the front.

He gave her an encouraging smile and she realised just how young he was without the trappings of his suit; she reached across and squeezed his hand. "Stay close," she whispered.

He swallowed, looking down at her dark skin eclipsing his own. His initial response was to pull away; instead he lightly clasped her back. "I will," he assured.

Martha stood up and winked, slipping out of their hiding place. "Hey ugly, you haven't seen an American Captain and a guy going by the name of Doctor have you.

I seem to have lost them somewhere."

--------------------------


	5. But I Know It's Time For You To Leave

My thanks to SZM for the beta

SHINE

Chapter 5

_But I know it's time for you to leave  
_

The guard escorting Martha looked decidedly spooked. His head jerked occasionally over his shoulder as if trying to ascertain something his senses couldn't. He was still jumpy when he handed her to another Erusion guarding what appeared to be a large storage cupboard. Martha smiled as she was shoved through the door.

"Martha!" The Doctor greeted. "I thought I told you to stay away," he held up an admonishing finger. "Never mind," he added, giving her a tight hug.

"The TARDIS decided otherwise," she answered, slightly winded by the exuberance of the embrace. "So, I'm here to rescue you."

The Doctor took a step back and frowned. "Isn't that my Jacket?"

Martha went to answer when she noticed Jack seated with his back to the wall.

"Not going so well, then, the rescue plan," he pointed out, turning to her.

"Hey Jack, you look like shit," she responded, walking across to the American, whose face was an explosion of fading torment and ripening bruises.

She crouched down and tipped his chin to her. "You're not healing so well," her voice was infused with concern.

He waved off her administrations, rubbing his battered face as he stood awkwardly. "I think my body's rebelling against the frequent bouts of death I've experienced at Dacia's hands. He seems to take immense pleasure in watching me die." He gave her a trademark grin and enfolded her in a bear hug. "Although, I must say, you're a sight for these tired and very sore eyes."

"Bit of a sadist bastard, our lizard leader," the Doctor informed her, "but very inventive when it comes to homicide."

"Here we go," Jack sighed, shaking his head. "Hey Doc, I really don't wanna get into another '_didn't you think that was an ingenious way to kill_ _you_' discussion today, okay?" His voice sounded strained.

The Doctor held up a hand. "So what's the plan?" Jack enquired, looking into Martha's rich brown orbs.

She gave a serene smile and pulled out the button from the jacket. Jack took it from her. "This, this is a tracking device," he told her, looking somewhat bemused.

An annoying, high-pitched, melodic whine sounded from beyond their prison. "Isn't that…" The Doctor began.

"…The lighter," Jack concluded, looking at the Time Lord.

"You're not alone." The Doctor deduced with a boyish smile.

"Who?" Jack asked; favouring his one side as he neared the door.

"A friend," Martha enlightened, secretly crossing her fingers.

The door bowed slightly as a load was thrown against it, followed by a venomous hiss and something clattering and rolling along the floor. A scuffle pursued, to a series of indiscernible grunts, the door, once more, playing springboard in the mêlée. Something collided with the wood, struggling and panting for air as the hinges, too, fought against the press of body weight.

Martha stepped closer to the entrance her face etched with concern. Moments passed and the gasps for air were becoming more and more laboured. She looked to Jack, her eyes filled with dread.

"Who?" The American demanded once more.

A high pitched scream resounded off the lumber and then went silent as the perpetrator slumped to the ground. Someone staggered against the door as they regained their composure. Metal locks slid in their casings and the door swung open. Jack stepped back, "Ianto," he cried in surprise.

The young man lent against the door frame, his face flushed, the black shirt torn at the collar and shoulder. "Captain," he replied hoarsely as he swallowed against the abrasive texture of his throat.

He turned to Martha, "I believe this is yours; red was never my colour." He handed her the jumper that was draped over his arm.

"Ianto what, what are you doing here?" Jack stammered in bewilderment.

The young man frowned and looked at his leader. "I believe rescuing your sorry arse about covers it, Captain." He answered in staggered whispers.

Martha offered him the jacket, which he carefully slipped on; his face clouding slightly in pain. "You're hurt." She said with an anxious smile, her hand staying on his shoulder.

Ianto hesitated, feeling the bruising on this neck cry out against the adrenalin rush. He buttoned the jacket up like a shield. "It'll heal," he said lightly, brushing her touch aside so he could retrieve the folded envelope and slip it into his inside pocket.

He turned his attention back to the Captain, "excuse me for saying so, sir, but you look like shit."

Jack waved off the comment. "Yeah, so I've been told already but you know me, I'm Captain Jack, indestructible." There was a certain irony in his voice which was directed towards the Time Lord.

Jack walked unsteadily toward the Welshman, his fingertips instinctively reaching to the weld of red skin circling his throat. "You sure you're okay?" He asked gently.

"Yes," Ianto replied, the blue steel of his eyes holding the Captain's worried gaze.

Jack broke into a grin as he let his fingers trail to the torn material of the collar. He turned it over between his fingers. "What no tie, Ianto? I've been gone for almost a month and I see your standards are slipping."

"That would be three months sir and I believe sub-section 34, point 5(b) states that when liberating ones colleagues from the clutches of the alien hordes, ones own discretion can be used with regards to ones attire."

The American's grin increased. "You still kinda look naked there without one," he declared, patting the stiff material back into place.

Ianto sighed and rolled his eyes. "In your dreams, sir."

"Well actually in those you're just wearing a tie," Jack teased, "and it's not around your neck!" He added for good measure.

"I believe they're called fantasies, Captain," the Welshman corrected. "And I really think this is not the place to discuss those."

"So, we can discus this some other time then?" Jack rounded. "Is that a promise Ianto Jones because you know me, I'll definitely hold you to it." His one eyebrow shot up provocatively.

The young man's face remained composed as he listened to the Captain's suggestive humour while watching the Doctor from the corners of the conversation. Ianto found himself being furtively observed, in return, by the Time Lord. They shared a glance; the Welshman looked away first.

Martha gave an exasperated sigh. "Any chance we can get out of here before our friend, here, wakes up?" She requested, indicating to the sprawled body of the Erusion. "Or do we have to witness yet another of Jack's futile attempts at flirting."

"Oh, Martha that hurt," Jack retorted tapping his heart.

The medical student rolled her eyes and turned to the Doctor who was crouched over the body. "What did you use on him?" He asked, trying not to inhale the pungent vapours that the body was secreting.

"Weevil spray?" Jack asked with interest, scooping down to retrieve the Erusion's weapon.

"Um, no sir," the young man answered, reclaiming his torch which had rolled along the corridor. "I really think that you should have a word with Owen about storing his _cologne_, and I use the term loosely, with the Weevil spray. You see, I left in such a hurry last night, I inadvertently picked up…" He made his way back to the group, reaching into his trouser pocket. "…Skulduggery by Faber-J. I believe our good Doctor Harper acquired it in the indoor market. It even has a small, plastic, boat floating inside the bottle." He shook it for good measure before putting it into his jacket.

The Doctor stood up, a smile erupting on his face, his brown eyes suspiciously bright. "I'm the Doctor by the way," he offered, extending his hand.

Ianto reluctantly returned the Time Lord's greeting, his body stiffening as they touched. The Doctor noticed the Welshman's tense response and fixed him with a questioning stare. Their eyes locked, like the clasp of their fingers and the Time Lord found there was something vaguely familiar in the cerulean orbs that looked back at him; a flare in their golden flecks, a pulse of energy that seemed to echo in the bond of their handshake.

"Have we met before?" He enquired.

"No, sir," the Welshman answered swiftly, his voice seemingly undaunted.

"It's just that…." The Doctor began.

"Ianto, a little help here." Jack interrupted, gesturing to the heavily plated Erusion.

"Of course Captain," the young man answered, freeing himself from the Time Lord.

The Doctor watched as Ianto helped Jack drag the guard into the cupboard; he tapped Martha on the shoulder.

"So, how did you two meet?" He asked through a smile, his gaze still fixed on the Welshman.

"He had a key to the TARDIS," she replied with a slight shrug. "He just let himself in."

The Doctor frowned, shoving his hands in his pockets; Martha cast him a sideways glance, biting into her lip.

The Time Lord knew the signs, "Martha," he encouraged.

She sighed. "He has a letter, addressed to you, in his pocket. I caught a glimpse of it when we swapped clothes."

The Time Lord glanced at the young man, "has he," his voice rose with interest.

"Doc?" Martha enquired.

He tapped a finger to his lips and gestured to where Jack and Ianto waited. "Shall we?" He invited, walking off at pace.


	6. We're All Just Pushing Along

**SHINE**

**Chapter 6**

_We're All Just Pushing Along  
_

They carefully made their way back to the Archive, the corridors strangely deserted.

Jack blew out his cheeks. "Is it me or is it a little chilly in here?"

"I believe the temperature has dropped by several degrees since we arrived, sir," Ianto expressed, rubbing his hands together to alleviate the chill from his fingers.

Jack grinned. "So, what d'ya reckon?" He looked at the Welshman.

Ianto paused for a moment, tucking his hands into his jacket pockets. "I'd say minus six?"

Captain Harkness pressed a few buttons on the watch-like device around his wrist. "Close," he exclaimed, sucking air through his teeth, "minus five, point five."

"And falling," Ianto informed him with in involuntary shiver.

The device bleeped; Jack nodded his head, "and falling."

"What are you like barometer boy now?" Martha asked ironically, wrapping her arms about her body.

"It's a gift, miss," the Welshman blandly enlightened.

"Martha!" The medical student added brusquely under her breath.

"Well, I say we get out of here before things start to really freeze," the Time Lord exclaimed, pushing passed them all.

Both Martha and Jack looked at each other. "Doc, something you forgot to mention?" The Captain posed.

The Doctor turned on his heels and frowned at them both. "Ah…" He cried out, looking from one to the other. "Didn't I mention…?"

"No," Martha stated with a weighty sigh.

His grin broadened and he dug deep in his pockets, producing a Ping-Pong ball. "I knew this would come in handy one day."

He held the ball between his thumb and forefinger and made a fist with his other hand. He indicated to the white sphere. "Okay this is the Earth and my other hand's the sun."

"O-kay," Jack stretched, his breath warming the air in swirls of white.

He angled the ball. "The Earth's axis is tilted by approximately twenty-three point five degrees."

"Great a science lecture." The Captain exclaimed, focusing the weapon on the remaining corridor. "Do you think you could hurry it up a bit Doc, you know, in case the bad guys decide to come out and play."

The Doctor moved his two hands further apart and tipped the ball so that his finger and thumb were horizontal. "Uranus, as it is pronounced nowadays to stop the stifled giggles of thousands of school children…."

"Doc!" Jack reminded

The Time Lord frowned and spoke a little louder. "As I was saying, Uranus tilts by ninety-eight degrees and has a surface temperature of minus two hundred and thirteen degrees Celsius."

Ianto took a step towards the Time Lord his gaze concentrated on the sphere.

The Doctor brought the ball closer to his fist and inclined it a little towards his clenched hand. "Vobis has a tilt of fifty-two degrees and only two seasons, Gelidus and Frigus."

"Which means?" Martha requested, rubbing the chill of her arms.

"It's going to get cold, bloody cold," Ianto whispered; his eyes still fixed on the ball.

The Doctor smiled and nodded, tossing the globe to the Welshman. Ianto caught it, rolling it between his fingers a while before depositing it in his pocket.

"And just how cold is _bloody cold_ Doc?" Jack invited, signalling for them to advance up the corridor.

"Oh, I'd say about minus one hundred and seventy give or take." The Time Lord placed his hands back in his pockets.

"And you didn't think it was a good idea to mention this when we were cooped up in the cupboard," Jack hissed.

"I didn't want to worry you and anyway, look, we've been rescued." The Time Lord replied with an impish grin.

The American shook his head. "We're still not out of the woods yet." He stated.

"What about the Vobians?" Martha asked, walking alongside the Time Lord.

"Ah, now they go into hibernation." The Doctor responded. "Surely you noticed how _rotund_ the all were." He made a circle with his arms in front of his stomach. "It's quite interesting really…" He paused to take a deeper breath.

Martha delayed the summation with a raised hand. "Doc as interesting as all this is, some of us here aren't immortal." She reminded, shivering slightly against the penetrating air.

"Yes of course." The Doctor retorted, putting a comforting arm around her. "Where did you say you left the TARDIS?"

"_She_ deposited us under the archive." The medical student answered, with a gesture of her head.

"That would be a left at the next juncture, Captain," Ianto informed the American, looking down at his PDA. Jack nodded gripping the weapon as he led the way.

"You know, I bet he was a boy scout." The Time Lord added as he followed the Welshman.

Martha laughed, burying herself in the Time Lord's warmth. "And you Doc? Were you ever a boy scout?" She asked.

He smiled. "I still am Martha," he whispered, much to her amusement but the Doctor's focus was still on the Welshman.

"What is it?" She enquired.

The Doctor planted a light kiss on the top of her huddled head. "Oh nothing."

He looked up aware that Ianto was observing him again, those penetrating eyes boring into his soul. Something dark flared within their limits and then it was gone as he turned his attention back to his Torchwood colleague.

Martha elbowed him, drawing his attention back to her. "Come on, what is it?"

He stopped and sighed. "It's just I can't help thinking that boy reminds me of someone."

Martha raised a dark eyebrow at the term 'boy'. "Yeah, I get that feeling too."

The Doctor frowned. "You do?"

"Uh-huh." She carried on walking.

He shook his head and hurried after her. "Who?"

She smiled sweetly. "He kind of reminds me of you."

"Really?" The Doctor replied, taken aback.

"Uh, huh," Martha added playfully. "Only you don't look _that_ good in a suit."

The Time Lord frowned and looked down at his attire.


	7. Trying To Figure It Out

**SHINE**

Chapter 7

_Trying To Figure It Out_

Two guards were slumped by the entrance of the archive. Jack guardedly went to examine the inert bodies, calling to Martha when he'd determined they were no threat.

She crouched down over the two comatose figures, pulling her hand from its deep burrow within her sleeve. She placed it against the frigid skin of one of the Erusions, noting the blue tinge around the mouth and eyes; she detected a slow and feeble pulse. "At a guess," she sighed regretfully, looking to the others, "I'd say hypothermia."

The Doctor offered her his hand, which she took. "But you knew that, didn't you?" She added, directing her comment at the Time Lord.

The Doctor rewarded her with a knowing grin. "It was an eventuality, they're part cold blooded." He looked down at the two guards. "And as I said before, they're not too bright; they didn't do their homework before they invaded."

He turned to open the doors of the archive. "Let's go home, shall we?" He posed, turning to the others.

The archive was darker than before, the great dome roof, lifeless.

The Doctor reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his glasses. He positioned them on his face, holding them in place with his finger and thumb. His face creased as he peered at the great brain above. "Ah, I see Harry's shutting down as well."

"Harry?" Martha questioned as she too craned her neck.

The Doctor turned his attention to her. "Yes, Harry after…"

"Surgeon-Lieutenant Harry Sullivan travelled with the Doctor for a while too," Ianto enlightened. "Or should I say Commodore Sullivan."

"Commodore Sullivan, well, well," the Doctor replied, folding his spectacles away and tucking them in his breast pocket.

"Yes, he's working for NATO now." Ianto stepped further into the archive, his shoes tapping against the glistening floor.

"Really, he's done well for himself." The Doctor said with a certain amount of surprise.

Ianto shook his head, his eyes narrowing. "No, he's just surviving the day to day of his mundane life, hoping, against the odds, to hear the sound of the TARDIS once more. How long has it been since you've seen him, Doctor, thirty, forty years? But I guess you don't do house calls. You just dump them and leave."

The Doctor looked at him, his expression unreadable. "Harry chose to go back to his, what was it? _Mundane life_." He smiled, "by train if I remember rightly." He tried to lighten the mood that was turning icier than the temperature.

Ianto gave a scathing snort. "Yes of course, my mistake but what of all the others?" His eyes locked on the Time Lord, a predatory anger bubbling in their depths. "Did they choose to leave or did you just abandon them when you tired of their company?" He glared at Martha.

Jack stepped in, trying the steer the young man away from the target of his tirade by taking his arm. "Enough Ianto," he warned, perplexed by the outburst.

The Welshman looked down at the restraining hand, following it to the Captain's face. "He abandoned you too, Jack."

"That was different, he thought I was dead."

"Is that what you're telling yourself now? I see the resentment at being left to rot on that game station has gone."

"I needed answers Ianto…" Jack began softly.

"No, Captain, you needed the Doctor. You want this life, gallivanting over the universe, no ties, no responsibilities, leaving the rest of us to clear up the crap he leaves behind. I saw the longing in your eyes, the desire, just like…" Ianto stopped himself and swallowed.

Jack turned him roughly by the arm to face him. "Is this about Lisa, Ianto, or is there something else fuelling this outburst? Jealousy perhaps?"

The young man laughed bitterly. "For once, Jack, this isn't about you, this is about all those he's discarded without so much of a second thought…"

The Doctor let out a humorous snort, causing Ianto to turn his attention back to him. "Is that the Torchwood edict?" The Time Lord enquired. "Well, let me state for the record," he held up his open hand at shoulder level and placed the other on his heart. "I swear that I have never _dumped_ anyone." He gave Martha a comforting smile; she returned the gesture.

"No you just conveniently lose them!" Ianto baited. "When did you last think of Rose, Doctor?"

Martha inadvertently sucked the air from the room.

The Time Lord glared at his antagonist with hostile eyes; Ianto continued heedlessly. "How opportune for you that she could be so readily replaced." He gestured to the medical student as he shook off Jack's solid grip.

The American inadvertently took a step back. "What the hell..?" He declared, looking at the Welshman for clarification. Ianto remained steadfast.

There was a moment's silence. The Time Lord looked away as the words, like splintered glass, penetrate his soul. He looked up and charged at Ianto, pushing him back against one of the booths with such force that the light went on.

"Just what are you blaming me for?" The Doctor hissed coldly, his breath merging with the gasps from the other man.

Ianto's words hitched against his chest as they simmered with desperate rage. "For not coming back," he plaintively whispered close to the Time Lord's ear.

The Doctor's hardened gaze searched the tormented depths of the other man's and his grip slip on the fabric that was balled in his hand. His fingers bushed against the contents of the inside pocket, the letter rustled with discovery.

Their eyes locked, neither man moved, the tick of the seconds dissolved into time; Ianto blinked first.

The Time Lord eased off and Ianto reached into the jacket to obtain the envelope. The Doctor took a step back as the letter was slammed into his palm. "I made a promise, a long time ago, that this would reach you." He swallowed against the emotion and turned away.

The Time Lord stared at the inscription, smoothing it with his thumb. He looked back at the Welshman, his voice sounding shaken. "How did you..?"

"Going somewhere Doctor?"

The quartet turned to the entrance as the heavily armed Erusion leader marched into the archive.


	8. All Your Anticipation Pulls You Down

**SHINE**

Chapter 8

_All Your Anticipation Pulls You Down_

"Drop your weapon Captain. I know you can survive death but what about your young friends here?" Dacia sneered as he trained his own weapon on Martha, his hand shaking violently in the rawness of the air.

"He's got a point Jack," the medical student conceded with a nervous smile.

"For now," the Captain snarled as he let the weapon fall to the floor.

The Doctor frowned. "Dacia, not looking so well there, bit blue around the gills…"

"Silence!" The Erusion took another resolute step forward. "You will summon your time ship or I will kill the girl." He clumsily pulled the Doctor's sonic screwdriver from his belt.

Dacia threw it at the Time Lord, his body swaying in the bulk of his hauberk as he fought against the creep of ice in his blood. "Do not point it in my direction, Time Lord," he warned, aiming the gun at Martha once more. "Or I will warm myself on the heat from her burning body." He let the silk of his tongue flick through a crack of a vicious smile.

The Doctor gave Dacia a caustic glare. "I'm afraid I can't do what you ask," he declared.

The Erusion let out a guttural snarl, which the Time Lord interrupted. "If I could summon the TARDIS on a whim why do you think we're walking to it now, eh?"

"Do not mock me Doctor, I saw you use your device to activate it once before." Dacia's breath strained against the chain-mail.

"Yes, when I was only a few feet away!" He spoke like he was talking to a child. "This just doesn't have the range," he rolled the screwdriver between his fingers.

"You lie!" The Erusion spat, lumbering towards the Time Lord. He struck the man in the face with the barrel of his weapon. The Doctor slumped backward onto the floor.

Jack went to reach for his own discarded gun but Dacia instinctively swung towards the movement, discharging his weapon. The blast hit the Captain, high on the shoulder; he was propelled to the ground. Martha dashed to his aid.

While the Erusion was distracted Ianto lunged at him, knocking the alien off balance; they both went reeling to the floor. The young man grappled for the weapon, but the Erusion was at least a two stone heavier and far stronger, even in his undermined state. With a few practiced blows he knocked the Welshman from him and got sluggishly to his feet, his breathing laboured.

He placed a boot on Ianto's chest, pitching his weight forward. "Summon your time ship Doctor or I will break this boy's ribs one by one." He pressed his foot down in emphasis, his amber eyes holding no trace of humanity. Ianto cried out.

The Time Lord stood up, wiping the blood from his nose. "Look, let me take you to her, it's not far…"

"You're stalling Doctor," Dacia hissed menacingly, continuing to bear down on the young man's rib cage. "I must get off this planet, rebuild my empire, I must…"

He looked around suddenly disorientated, "I must…" He looked down at the Welshman, his eyes devoid of understanding. "I must…" His body swayed, winding the young man as he stumbled from him.

Dacia held a gloved hand out in front of him; the tremors had stopped. He looked at the Doctor and laughed. "See I am impervious to this planet's foul weather." He raised his weapon, aiming it at the great dome. "I too am immortal."

A blast sounded. Dacia's triumphant expression melted into one of surprise as he looked at the burning hole in his chest. His weapon slid from his grasp, clattering to the floor. He put his hand to the wound in an attempt to cover the cauterized edges of metal and skin and looked up into Jack's unfeeling royal gaze. The Captain readjusted his aim, preparing to fire once more. Dacia took two steps towards him before falling to his knees. He let out an enraged cry, his lips curling around the sound and then toppled face down to the floor. Blood pooled around him, blooming against the clinical shine of the floor.

"Must've forgot about my wonderful ability to heal." Jack said, toe poking the alien.

He crouched down, his boots touching the red puddle seeping from under the body. He placed his fingertips to the Erusion's neck and sighed. "Dead," he confirmed getting to his feet. "You okay?" He asked the Doctor.

The Time Lord nodded, using his handkerchief to smother his own blood flow; he gestured to where Martha was examining the Welshman.

The Captain followed his gaze, "Ianto!" He said softly under his breath and moved to join them.

He hunkered down, looking to Martha. "A cracked rib and some facial bruising," she informed him, with a reassuring smile.

Jack nodded and looked down at the young man. "You know, we really should have a talk about you and fieldtrips," Jack admonished kindly, letting his fingers comb through the Welshman's hair.

Ianto's lips gave a hint of a smile and Martha saw something, unspoken and tender, pass between them.

Jack offered his hand to Ianto. "Can't stay here forever."

The young man exhaled and winced as pain's diligent fingers clawed at his chest, reminding him of the extent of his injuries. With the Captain's help he sat up, fighting against the swell of queasiness lapping his stomach.

He let an oath escape from between his clenched teeth. "You sure you're okay?" Jack asked as the Welshman sagged against him.

"Just cold sir," Ianto answered with a shiver.

"You're not alone there," Martha acknowledge looking over her shoulder to the Time Lord. "Doc?" He was looking down at the envelope in his hands. "You coming?"

He nodded, placing the letter inside his jacket. "Right behind you," he stated, his expression covered with a mask of a smile.

Jack wrapped Ianto's arm over his shoulder, taking the young man's weight. "You mind telling me what we almost got killed for?" He asked quietly.

"A promise," Ianto whispered.

Jack smiled. "Well, I've had a few of those in my time."


	9. When You Can Have It All

SHINE

Chapter 9

_When You Can Have It All_

Ianto shifted uncomfortably in the chair. Martha moved the icepack in his hand back onto his cheek. "Keep it there," she admonished, with a flare of a smile.

The cold bit into his skin and he closed his eyes to shield his head from the pound of the soft lighting. Behind their shade he coasted on the purr of the TARDIS, letting her soft drone whisper to him like the soft cords of a lullaby, massaging the hurt that was more than flesh and bone. His breathing relaxed in harmony to the pulse of the engine, becoming one, in time and space with the shell around him. He felt her energies merge with flow of his own blood, he felt her recognition, he felt that he belonged.

The Doctor watched the young man from the console. He observed his anguished expression drift into one of tranquillity as the TARDIS spun in the ad infinitum conduit. To his surprise the Time Lord felt a connection, like a whisper in the fabric of his soul; she was nurturing the Welshman, cosseting him to her bosom, like a mother to a child.

Ianto's eyes opened and fleetingly those flecks of gold caught and held the light; her light; her heart.

"Doc?" Jack had been talking to him but his mind was beyond the blur of conversation.

He reached into his jacket and pulled out the unopened envelope. "Do you know how he came by this?"

Jack followed the Time Lord's gaze and sighed. "If you're asking if it's Torchwood related, I can't say for sure," the American said with a shrug. "I've never seen it before."

The Doctor held it reverently in his hands. "It didn't come through the rift?"

Jack turned and rested his hip on the console. "Not on my watch Doc." He paused a moment. "You recognise the handwriting?" It wasn't really a question.

The Time Lord nodded; Jack looked over his shoulder. "You could always ask him."

The Doctor turned his attention back to Ianto. "I'm not sure if I'm ready for the answer." He replied quietly.

Jack put his hands in his pockets and looked down at the floor. "It's your call."

The Time Lord looked at him and then back to the envelope. "You want me to open it for you?" The American invited with a warm smile.

The Doctor shook his head. "You trust him?" He asked, referring to the Welshman.

Jack held eye contact. "Yes," he said honestly.

The Time Lord's stare deepened. "Really?"

"Yeah, really," he offered with a tug of his lips. "Don't ask me to explain, it's a gut thing. He's a good kid, Doc but somewhere along the line he's been broke and it's not just fallout from Canary Wharf, it's something way deeper."

He let out a small laugh. "Some days I think that suit of his is the only thing that's keeping him together but you'd never know, not unless you knew what to look for. Ianto has a unique ability to remain composed when underneath all those well pressed layers he's screaming."

"And you know what to look for?"

Jack crossed his arms and gave a dramatic sigh. "I've learnt," he reflected softly, looking towards the Welshman. His smile broadened. "But I'm still no closer to the real Ianto Jones and you know what, I find that real intriguing."

"Intriguing?" The Time Lord repeated with raised eyebrows.

"Yeah, Doc, intriguing." They shared a grin.

The Doctor looked down at a fluctuating gauge and turned a corresponding switch. "Well the TARDIS's taken a shine to him," he uttered. "See how smoothly she's running?"

Jack watched him tap the glass dome of the gauge until the needle jumped. "And what about you Doc?" He asked.

The Time Lord blew out his cheeks and cocked his head to one side. "He seems to have a general aversion to Time Lords," he commented.

"Nah, I think it's just to you Doc, you seem to have this unique ability to piss people off."

The Time Lord looked hurt. "Really?" He said in mock surprise. "Can't say I've noticed." Jack smiled.

The Doctor leant both hands against the console. "So you don't think it's to do with Canary Wharf then?" He said, looking into the other man's stare.

Jack ran his fingers over the console as if inspecting for dust. "Nah, that was all Torchwood, Ianto realises that."

The Time Lord nodded. "So, anything in his file?"

Jack's grin broadened. "A large part of it's sealed."

The Doctor eyes widened with interest and unspoken questions; the Captain shook his head. "No, really sealed, even I can't access it and believe me I've tried."

The Time Lord put a finger to his chin. "Intriguing," he whispered to the air.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," Jack added, looking towards the Welshman.


	10. Come On, Get It On

SHINE

Chapter 10

_Come On, Get It On_

A/N: Tyvek® – Is a protective material made from very fine, high-density polyethylene fibres. It's lightweight yet strong; water-, chemical-, puncture-, tear- and abrasion-resistant.

----------------------------

The Captain stepped away from the console and tapped Martha on the shoulder. The medical student looked from Jack to the Time Lord. The Doctor inclined his head. Martha took her direction and stood up. She let her hand rest for a moment on Ianto's shoulder. "I hope you find those answers," she whispered gently, before leaving with Jack.

Ianto watched them go and then turned his attention back to the Time Lord. The Doctor smiled as he sat down beside him. "Is that meant to put me at ease?" The Welshman asked brusquely, carefully removing the ice-pack.

The Time Lord ignored the comment, looking at the letter he held in his hands. "How did you come by this?" He queried, his eyes not leaving the Tyvek envelope.

Ianto glanced quickly at the correspondence and then looked away. He waited a moment before answering. "She gave it to me," he said quietly.

The Doctor shook his head. "That's impossible…"

"Why?" The young man asked bluntly, his eyes holding the other's stare.

The Doctor looked back to the letter. "Because she could never come back." He closed his eyes for a moment.

Ianto watched him, the emotion spreading across the rift between them. "She didn't," he whispered finally.

"What?" The Doctor looked at him.

"She never came back." Ianto shifted uncomfortably in the chair, his voice straining.

The Time Lord held out the letter. "Then how…?"

"I travelled here, between the universes." Ianto marvelled how easily the words tumbled into the open when he had lived so effortlessly in a lie. He licked his lips; the truth had left no bitter aftertaste.

The TARDIS stilled as if catching a breath between spins. The Doctor's eyes narrowed as he digested the young man's statement. He shook his head. "No, no, no that just isn't possible…"

"Why?" Ianto challenged.

The Doctor stood, looking towards the console at some distant memory. "All the breaches were closed," he replied, sharply.

"Are you so sure, the fractures spread over…?" Ianto winced as he moved forward in the seat.

"Trust me I'm sure," the Doctor cut in, a hint of sadness creeping into his voice. "I am a Time Lord after all."

The Welshman let out an ironic laugh. "And of course you've never been wrong before?" He pushed the ice-pack to the floor in frustration.

The Doctor let out an exasperated sigh, pivoting round to face the young man. He went to say something but changed his mind. "You're persistent I'll give you that." He retorted, shaking his head a little.

"I like to think of myself as more, single minded." Ianto stared at the Time Lord. They traded grins.

"So, have you ever been wrong before?" The young man continued.

The Doctor exhaled, pursing his lips slightly in recall. "There have been a few occasions but this isn't one of them," he quickly added.

Ianto smiled. "Then prove me wrong, open the letter."

The Time Lord let out laugh and sat back down. "How do I know that this isn't some Torchwood fabrication?"

"You don't," came the simple reply.

The Doctor held the durable envelope between his two hands. "This could've fallen through rift."

"Yes." The answer was evasive.

Again the Time Lord found himself abandoned in the Welshman's verbal maze oblivious to which direction they were going. "Yes as in it did or yes as in it could have?"

Ianto shook his head, giving nothing away. "I didn't think you were the paranoid one."

"You wait until you've live as long as I have."

The Doctor looked to him once more and tutted. "Intriguing," he whispered shaking his head; this time Ianto frowned.

The Time Lord took his glasses from his jacket and flicked them open with one hand. "So this will prove that you came through dimensions, will it?"

"Yes." Ianto replied his eyes drawn to the movement.

The Doctor fitted the thick rimmed glasses on his face, positioning them as they slid down his nose. "Well, let's just see."


	11. Don't Know What You're Waiting For

SHINE

Chapter 11

Don't Know What You're Waiting For 

-------------------------

The Doctor waited a moment before, carefully, peeling back the flap of the envelope. A gentle breath of scent escaped its inner confines drifting through his memory like an errant shade. It reminded him of casual days and sunny smiles; no, one smile, so dazzling it had lifted him from the depths of despair and taught him to see the rainbows in the universe again.

One smile, one light; Rose.

He pulled the letter from within, his fingers trembling as they touched the sheets of handwritten correspondence. Several photographs tumbled to the floor, like spring blossoms caught on the breeze. He picked them up, looking to the letter first as if to anchor him from the pitch of his hearts.

"_Doc._" He could hear her voice as if she was sitting next to him. _"Sorry for going all cliché on you but, if you're reading this then I'm afraid I've got some bad news for you. I'm dead…"_

"Dead." The word fell from his lips like a weighted bag. He stopped and looked toward the younger man, snatching the glasses from his face. "How did she..?" He asked, holding the letter in front of him to strengthen the question.

Ianto flinched and looked away. "Slitheens," he replied his voice shaking as he attempted to stand.

The Doctor went to offer a hand but the Welshman refused, leaning against the seat for support while he composed himself. Slowly he began to pace, the pain from his rib taking away the agony of heartbreak.

He looked to the Time Lord, his eyes like glass, his voice as dry and brittle as the scrape of autumn leaves. "They had infiltrated various levels of the government with the sole purpose of setting up special camps to tackle the problems of homelessness on the streets of Britain."

The Doctor listened, his hand still clasping her letter, afraid to let it slip from his grasp.

"It sounded like a good idea, especially after people had become more distrustful of vagrants since they had been used to expand the ranks of the Cybermen."

"But that was all Lumic's doing," the Doctor interjected.

Ianto stopped and placed a hand to his rib, trying to ward off the rip of pain. He took a few laboured breaths. "Yes, we know that, but the general public were given a lot of misinformation. It seems all those who had invested vast sums of money in Cybus Industries wanted to deflect the blame of their involvement and protect their _good_ names; so they laid it at the feet of those who had no resources to fight back."

"And the government went along with this?" The Time Lord asked.

Ianto laughed, which he immediately regretted. "Money talks, apparently, especially when it's for political funding."

The Doctor nodded. "Ah," he acknowledged. He watched the young man struggle against the pain, jumping from his seat in an attempt to aid him again.

Ianto shook his head, "I need to stand." The Time Lord acknowledged this and backed away.

"These camps were built away from populated areas and were supposed to offer not only food and shelter but job training as well, so that each individual could, after an allotted time, be put back into the populace with the skills required to be a useful once more.

"The only problem was those who entered, were never seen again.

"The Slitheens had set up the camps for _sporting_ purposes, inviting more of their brethren to come to Earth and home their hunting skills. A human safari on our doorstep and nobody thought to challenge it because nobody missed the quarry.

"Torchwood Three only became aware of what was happening when it was notified by Sarah-Jane Smith. She had gone undercover to one of the camps; she barely escaped with her life."

"Torchwood Three?" The Doctor looked down at the letter and frowned.

"Yes, One had been compromised." The young man shifted uneasily on his feet.

"Rose had moved to Cardiff?"

"Yes," Ianto hesitated. "She needed to be near the rift." He held the Doctor's gaze. "Just in case," he whispered finally; the Time Lord nodded.

"You were one of her team?" The Doctor questioned. "At Torchwood?"

Ianto's glare softened and the Time Lord saw his heart surface in the mist of their ambiguous colour. "No," he replied honestly.

The Doctor swallowed, avoiding eye contact. "Did you love her?"

Ianto gave a contemptuous scowl. "Did you?"

"I think I asked the question f…"

"Yes," came the choked reply.

The Doctor looked down at the floor. "That's good," he said almost to himself.

Ianto watched the other man for a moment as the Time Lord collected his thoughts. The Doctor looked up. "Please… please continue," he coughed slightly into his free hand.

The young man swallowed, his face drained of emotion. "Torchwood and her allies went in and liberated the camps but it didn't stop there, they had to effect a coup against the government; it seems our golden age Prime Minister was in fact a Slitheen."

"I told Pete to watch out for her." The Doctor cocked his head to one side. "Who took her place?"

Ianto grinned for the first time. "What?" The Time Lord asked.

"You're going to love this," the Welshman exclaimed.

"Don't tell me it's Jackie?" The Doctor stuttered.

"No, Ricky Smith." The young man's face lightened.

"Mickey," the Doctor corrected, shaking his head.

"No, he's Ricky in our universe, well technically he's Mickey but he had to assume Ricky's identity." Ianto lent against one of the walls and puffed out his cheeks. "That always floored Jackie; she took to calling him Smithy to save confusion."

"You want to sit down?" The Doctor asked again.

The young man shook his head. "Since your last contact with the parallel Earth the Preachers had formed a political party and after the Prime Minister and most of the cabinet had been charged with treason…"

"Treason?"

Ianto shrugged as best he could under the circumstances. "Again the public were never given the real reason for the sudden overthrow of the government; Torchwood had to fabricate one hell of a political scandal."

"I bet!" The Doctor paused, "that still doesn't explain…" He looked at the words of the letter.

"Harriet Jones escaped the cull of her family." Ianto said frankly.

The Doctor looked up, his eyes cold. "Torchwood killed them."

Ianto nodded. "To send a message to the other sects."

"She would have wanted revenge," the Time Lord whispered.

Ianto looked straight at him. "She got it."


	12. Your Time Is Coming Don't Be Late

SHINE

Chapter 12

_Your Time Is Coming Don't Be Late_

The young man turned away and looked to the rise and fall of the time rotor. Around him the room became fragmented as the strength of memory seared through to the present.

_A soft glow of apricot tones coloured his face, warming his cheeks with sunset kisses. The early stars paled against the brilliance of the fading light. A blackbird skipped on the branches of a young apple tree, its piercing hymn signalling the lateness of the hour like a call to vespers. Lily ran barefooted about the garden, her golden hair, tied in unkempt braids, swinging like the basket of raspberries she had freshly picked from the canes. Rose reclined lazily in a deckchair, thumbing through paperwork, the last rays of light making a bittersweet halo of her hair, while Ianto stood grey against the burnished gold of the setting sun._

"We had a cottage near the Beacons, after the incident with the Slitheens we went there, Jackie, Rose, Lily and me. She was dead on her feet, she needed a few days to recharge and maybe get a new perspective on looking for the missing Prime Minister." His voice broke with recollection.

The Doctor moved to where the young man stood. "Lily?"

Ianto eyes remained fixed, as if hypnotised by the past. "Jackie and Pete's daughter," he explained, giving a soft laugh. "Apparently Mam-gu wanted to call her Kylie but Tad-cu stuck to his guns and pushed for Lily; Jackie gave in, eventually." He turned and looked at the Time Lord, his eyes blurred by soft tears. The Doctor swallowed and placed a hand on his shoulder; Ianto seemed not to notice.

The Time Lord's mind turned with the words _Mam-gu_, _Tad-cu._ They echoed in gentle whispers, goading his perception, pushing him through the barrier of knowledge. _Grandmother,_ _Grandfather_, _Jackie and Pete_.

He let go of the Welshman and shuffled through the photos in his hand. There it was, Rose with a new born held to her chest, pale, exhausted but with that smile. He flipped it over; _'Ianto and me, day one!_' Was written on the back.

"_Did you love her?" _

"_Did you?" _

"_I think I asked the question f…"_

"_Yes."_

The answer had been unconditional, he realised that now.

His eyes lingered on the image. "She was your mother," he murmured, keeping his voice calm over the fierce beating of his hearts. "Rose."

Ianto remained stoic, his mind fixed on the trauma of a quintessential scene.

_There was a fanfare of toppling pots from the kitchen followed by a harsh chorus of expletives._

_Ianto walked over to the deckchair and sat down beside it. "It'll be too sweet," he said looking towards the kitchen._

_Rose sighed and looked from the sheet she was reading, pushing her sunglasses on top of her hair. "Ianto, give her a chance, she's trying her best."_

_He picked a tall blade of Timothy-grass and placed it, lazily, in the side of his mouth. "Last time she didn't put enough sugar in, this time she's used a whole kilo bag."_

_Rose looked down at him and tapped him on the shoulder with her pen. "You didn't tell her did you?"_

_Ianto looked at her, shielding his eyes from the softening sun. "I might have mentioned it," he said with a shrug._

_Rose gave a small grin. "Oh Ianto," she roughed his hair. "Mum's just trying her best to find her niche here."_

_He leant back on his hands and stretched his legs out in front. "Well Domestic Goddess isn't working."_

"_And she doesn't need to hear it from you, okay," Rose admonished. "So just drink it and smile."_

_He made a face but nodded._

_Jackie came out carrying a tray with tall glasses of homemade lemonade on it. She put it down on the patio table with a thud, glaring at Ianto. "Take that out of your mouth; Rose, tell him, it's so unhygienic, who knows what's been on that."_

_Rose sighed and looked down at her son, Ianto spat the grass onto the floor. Jackie pursed her painted lips and tutted._

_Lily came running over, dropping her basket and its cache of fruit over the lawn so she could take a glass. She drank it with relish, placing it back on the table when she had finished. "I've got biscuits in the oven, too," Jackie said in a small voice, stroking her younger daughter's hair. Lily looked up and smiled, wiping her arm across her sugary lips, before resuming her fruit picking._

"_Thanks Mum," Rose said, watching the child skip idly back to her overturned basket. "We're hungry, aren't we?" She kicked Ianto._

_He nodded. "Yes, Grandmother, I'm looking forward to the gingerbread aliens…"_

"_Gingerbread men!" Jackie exclaimed through gritted teeth._

"_Oh, I just thought as some of them had extra limbs and others were headless…"_

"_Ianto…" Rose looked from her son to her mother. "Thanks Mum, this looks lovely," she furnished diplomatically, taking a glass and holding it up to the retreating light._

"_Wait until you try it," Ianto muttered under his breath. Jackie glowered at him. _

"_We __**all**__ appreciate your efforts, Mum," Rose added tactfully._

"_Well you could 'ave fooled me, some people around here..." The smoke alarm sounded. Jackie turned quickly and stomped back towards the kitchen._

_Ianto followed her gait. "How does she do that?" He asked, turning his head slightly._

_Rose swirled the unassuming liquid in the glass. "What?" She invited, drawn to the disappearing form of her mother._

"_Make those flip-flops sound like Jack Boots."_

_Rose's laugh sparkled in the fading light, Lily looked towards them before returning to her task. "It's an art;" she informed him, taking a drink and quickly spitting it out. "Dear God, she's trying to poison us!"_

"_I did try and warn you." He said, getting up to take a napkin from under the tray. He handed it to Rose. "Maybe you should employ her at Torchwood. You could torture those in the cells with her cooking."_

"_Ianto, be nice," Rose stated with a half smile as she wiped her top with the serviette. _

_He watched a wasp, in dire need of a sugar rush, land on top of Lily's discarded glass. "She doesn't like me," he said softly to the frenzied insect._

_Rose caught hold of his arm and pulled him onto her lap, letting her paperwork crease as he sat on it. She wrapped an arm around him and tenderly stroked his hair, planting fine kisses on his crown. "Of course she does, she's your Grandmother." She sighed, looking across the lawn at Lily._

_He looked up into her face. "She doesn't like me because I re…"_

"_Why don't you go and play with Lily?" Rose interrupted, deliberately avoiding eye contact. _

_Ianto swallowed. "She's playing some sort of game involving fairies and fruit," he huffed, pulling away from his mother._

_Rose's face clouded. "Not that sort of fairies," Ianto exclaimed with a sigh. _

_She looked from her serious child to her peaches and cream sister. Who would guess Lily was the elder of the two. "I think I bring too much of my work home with me," she whispered into his hair._

"_But you're never home", he said sullenly. _

_She looked away for a moment and then pulled him to her again. "I know, I know," she whispered gently, rocking him in her embrace. "Did you manage to store away your present from Uncle Mickey." She glanced across the garden to the large, blue, carry-bag; she knew the answer._

"_Ricky," he corrected, "and yes, it wasn't that hard." _

_She smiled. "You know what, after Torchwood's cleared up this Slitheen business, how about you and me take that new tent of yours out for a proper airing."_

_Ianto looked sceptical. "What, __**you**__ camping?"_

"_Oi cheeky, I'll have you know I've roughed it with the best!" She ruffled his hair. "And anyway I asked 'Ricky' to get a few optional extras to go with it. They're in the boot of my car." _

_Ianto cocked a well practised eyebrow in her direction and she gave him a blatant smile. "Just who is this present for?" He posed._

"_Both of us," she answered enveloping him in a hug. "So, what do you say, Master Tyler, wanna go camping with your old Mum and a few mod cons?"_

_He snuggled close to her skin. "I'd like that very much."_

_They stayed like that for a moment, listening to the noise of the garden celebrating the end of the day until Rose felt Ianto stiffen. He sat up watching a cloud of gnats swarming in the waning light. _

"_What?" She asked gently, lifting his head toward her, aware that his mind had found a sharp angle._

_He looked down at his knees, his fingers tentatively inspecting a newly formed scab. _

_He shrugged. "What if, you know, while we're away, he…?"_

"_He won't." She replied, shaking her head a little._

"_But how do you know?" He challenged, picking at the hard crust. _

"_Well if he does, I won't be here. So, if he really wants to find me, he'll have to look harder won't he?"_

_The exchanged smiles, a simple understanding, a promise made. Rose pulled him to her again and smelt his hair, loosing herself in his soft aroma. She wanted to hold him like this forever, in the sober light of the setting sun but part of her had accepted, long ago, that he never really belonged to her. This was a borrowed moment. A borrowed child._

_Ianto fell back against her warm embrace, feeling their heart beats harmonise in a steady rhythm. He shut his eyes, for one blissful minute, try to forge the connection of mother and son, hoping that his love was enough to bond them together; but as always, something else stirred deep within him, something else was calling him from the periphery of his being. Something that had a prior claim._

_He opened his eyes and saw the same emotion reflected in his mother's gaze. He looked away. "Sorry," he whispered, to the break of both their hearts. For what more can a seven year old say when he knows he doesn't quite fit-in with those around him._

_Rose kissed him gently on his forehead, saying nothing but Ianto found her silence damning. _

He looked back at the Doctor. "It started with a scream from the kitchen."


	13. See The Light On Your face

SHINE

Chapter 13

_See The Light On Your Face_

_Rose jumped immediately to her feet, spilling Ianto and her paperwork to the floor. "What's she done now?" She exclaimed beginning to walk to the house._

_A green figure appeared at the doorway holding the broken form of Jackie by the neck, her flip-flops dangling precariously from in between her toes. _

Ianto drew breath through his nose. "The Slitheen got to Jackie first, broke her neck," he informed the Doctor. "She still had an oven glove on, the one Lily bought for her birthday the week before; it was part of a set." His voice was detached and somewhat chilling.

_There was a fixed moment in time, nobody moved. _

_Lily gave a nervous laugh, her young mind shielding itself from the understanding of mortality. Rose looked down at her sister's innocence, swallowing back the emotion coursing through her veins. She grabbed Ianto's shoulder firmly and held onto him. _

_A House Sparrow fluttered its wings as it tried to find purchase on the feathered shoots of a maiden tree; the young plant buckled under its weight, pitching over to one side. The Bird's frantic struggle and rowdy squawks broke the silence._

_It was then Lily screamed. It was then her mind opened up._

_The Slitheen threw Jackie's inert body to the ground and walked forward with resolve; her all-consuming stare ablaze with hatred and the thrill of the hunt. Ianto caught Lily by the wrist to stop her from rushing forward to the body of her dead mother. _

_Rose dug into her back pocket, pulling her phone free from her jeans. She flipped it open and passed it to Ianto. "Take Lily and go." She directed anxiously, gesturing to the five bar gate at the edge of the garden._

_He followed her gaze, his heart beating rapidly. "I can't…"_

_Rose seized him, her eyes never leaving the advancing alien. "Yes you can," she stated, refraining from shaking him._

_He shook his head. "Ianto you have to get Lily away from here," Rose implored, trying to block the pitiful sobs of her sister. _

"_Come with us," he pleaded, his feet stumbling as Lily began to drag him towards the gate._

_Rose made a lunge for a spade resting against the outhouse. "I can't," she whispered bleakly. "I have to hold her off while you get help." She gripped the tool purposely in both hands. She had to defend them; she knew the Slitheen was out for blood, all of their blood._

_Their eyes met; Ianto nodded._

"Our nearest neighbour was fifteen minutes walk across farmland." He looked at the Time Lord, a poignant smile shattering his face. "Mam liked the isolation the house offered," he explained. "There were times when she needed the seclusion, to get away from the grime and darkness of her job. In retrospect, I guess, it wasn't a good choice."

_The Slitheen stopped and looked from Rose to the children. "Hey, bitch, it's me you want!" Rose yelled, holding the spade ready._

_The alien looked at her. "I know," it replied with a callous smile full of serrated teeth. _

"I half threw Lily over the gate and clamber after her, panicking a sea of dairy cows as we ran across the field." He swallowed, "I tried dialling Torchwood but the signal was weak, it cut off after a few seconds."

_Ianto got the tone again. "Shit," he swore as he stopped and raised the phone above his head in forlorn hope._

"_Bad word, bad word." Lily was rocking where they stood, her arms wrapped around her slight body, shivering in the humidity._

_She looked towards her nephew and pulled his t-shirt. "We have to go, we have to go, can't stay, Ianto." Her voice was a wretched whine._

"_In a minute," he snapped not looking from the cell._

_She let out a painful howl and swivelled round, running blindly back to the house._

"_Lily, no!" Ianto called after her._

_She stumbled and fell on the churn of the hard earth; the days of scorching heat had baked the mud into uneven mounds. _

_Ianto ran over and went to helped her up but she shrank back from his touch. "It's going to get us," she whispered, her brown eyes like full moons in the half-light. "The frog monster, it's going to eat our heads and chew our fingers. It didn't like Mam's biscuits and now it's going to eat us." Lily quivered against the dusk and Ianto noticed her feet were cut and bleeding._

_He looked back to the house before crouching down next to her. "Put my trainers on," he soothed, ripping the Velcro straps. _

_She folded herself in a ball, drawing her knees under her chin. "Can't run any more, Ianto." She wiped a hand across her face pasting her cheek with silver residue._

"_I know, I know," Ianto breathed softly, angling one foot so he could place it inside the shoe. _

_He looked down to the light of the phone. "But we can't stay here, it's not safe."_

_She looked at him, her eyes dewy with tears. "My castle's safe, please can't we go there? Frog's can't climb trees."_

'_Yes they can,' his mind cried out to the pound of pumping blood but instead he just smiled and looked across the field._

_Profiled against the light ink of the sky were two misshapen, old, oaks, their proximity to one another giving them the appearance of giant conjoined twins. Birds nested in the cross of their branches, animating their foliage in a storm of noise and movement. _

_Pete had been forced to erect a castle in their lowest span after the catalogue had failed to deliver a plush, pink palace for Lily's seventh birthday. Gaining the farmer's permission had been easy; the weathered Welshman, with the ripe whisky cheeks, had secretly hoped the amateur construction would somehow kill off those stubborn, wooden spinsters who were filching the goodness from his soil. Pete had set about his task with due diligence, requisitioning every surplus piece of wood he could lay his hands on, old doors, various sized planks, old fence panels that had fallen foul to the wind, even a stack of Euro-pallets had been used to floor the interior. Ianto had helped; it had taken three wonderful days, just him and Tad-ca, and Jackie's doorstep sandwiches…. _

"_Ianto?" Lily entreated again._

_He looked at her and nodded. It made sense, his young brain told him, Lily couldn't walk for much longer and maybe they could get a stronger signal with the height._

_He helped her up and they picked their way through the startled herd until they reached the oaks._

"It had a metal Roll-Out ladder," Ianto told the Time Lord, "Lily would pull it back up when she was safely hidden."

_Lily looked at the swing of the rungs and then back to her nephew. She grabbed his arm. "You're going back." She stated calmly, her wide stare never leaving his._

_Ianto nodded and she gave him a small smile, letting her grip slide to his hand; their fingers entwining around the phone. The proximity of their birth had made them close even if they lived in different worlds. _

_Lily prised the phone from his control. "I'll try Torchwood again," she said with all the maturity she could muster. "And Da, he'll know what to do." _

_She tucked the mobile in the pocket of her skirt and kissed Ianto on the cheek._

_It was their last goodbye. _


	14. Stop Being So Hard On Yourself

SHINE

Chapter 14

_Stop being so hard on yourself_

The Doctor looked to the young man, steadying him against the rage of emotion threatening to topple him to the floor. "You went back." He whispered, gently.

"I thought it was the right thing to do!" The desolate words fell unchecked on the roll of time.

The Doctor gave a small consoling nod, placing a hand on the Ianto's shoulder. "It was." He agreed, watching the many layers fall from the Welshman's face, revealing the trouble boy beneath.

Ianto paused again, his half attentive gaze resting on the Time Lord. He ran his hand through his hair and backed away, shaking his head. "I-I remembered Jackie had tried her hand at gardening, it was one of her many projects that lasted a few months. She'd bought vast quantities of a natural herbicide which contained vinegar..." He stumbled over his words, as they flew from his heart.

"Acetic acid," the Doctor affirmed.

Ianto nodded. "Mam told me how you'd defeated the Slitheens, here, on this Earth. I thought I had a chance…" He turned away.

"To save her," the Time Lord added quietly.

Ianto swiped a hand across his nose. "To save them both." His broken voice declared; his eyes filled with guilt.

The Doctor held the Welshman's gaze. "I would've done the same." He acknowledged. "Gone back…"

Ianto didn't hear him. "I, I thought Lily would be safe, until I could get to the Slitheen. I was wrong…"

He walked across to the console and placed his palms down on its smooth surface, watching the random twitch of a gauge. He felt the ebb of time flow through his fingertips, drawing his mind back. He swallowed as the memories crept from their shallow grave. "I slipped through the window at the side of the outhouse so I didn't have to go round to the garden. I'd done it countless times before." He gave a solemn smile. "Of course I wasn't allowed in there but that's what made it all the more tempting…"

_Ianto turned deftly on the sill, landing feet first on the hard stone floor. He dusted himself down, aware that he had clipped the scab off his knee, which was now bleeding in a single tear down his leg. He crept quietly around the old stone building, once used to store livestock when the house had been a working farm. He carefully located a stool and placed it in front of a set of shelves. A fluorescent glow, from the garden's floodlight, made a halo around the door making it easy for him to find the weed killer. He stepped onto the first shelf and climbed promptly to the next, the wood sagging with his weight. He steadied himself and reached up to retrieve two spray bottle from the top shelf. He shook them to determine if they were full, he was rewarded to find the seals had not yet been broken. _

"I was so please with myself, thinking I'd outwitted the Slitheen…" The young man's voice fell with the stoop of his shoulders.

The Doctor carefully led him away from the console back to the row of seats, placing a glass of water in his hand. Ianto stared into the clear liquid afraid of what was coming next. The glass slipped from his hand, shattering onto the floor like the remnants of his soul. He looked down at the shards but his eyes only saw the bottles of weed killer that had fallen from his grasp.

_Somewhere in the distance a dog barked its warning to the world and a plane droned across the sky, its light blinking in time with the pump of Ianto's heart. _

_The garden sprinkler changed direction soaking his leg as it doused the lawn. He took an uncertain step forward, leaving a footprint where he had stood, his left leg rooted in the washed grass._

_Rose lifted her head; her face bore the trauma of the Slitheen's revenge, her eyes anguish and pain. "Ianto." She whispered in blood, relief seeping into her gaze. "You have to go." Her voice was strong, even as her heart slowed._

_Ianto remained anchored in the soft ground, his eyes wide with terror. "Ianto!" Rose screamed again, the exertion sending spasms of pain through her prone body. _

_The boy recoiled as if he'd been slapped and rushed forward to the heavy panelled door of the outhouse._

Ianto looked into the Doctor's deep brown eyes. "She wasn't dead." The words bust with expanding tears. "The Slitheen had used…" He swallowed. "…Had used the titanium pegs from my new tent to pin her to the wooden door. She hung from her shoulders, her feet not touching the floor."

The Time Lord remained grim as the words crept into his soul, entwining themselves like the spur of a fruitless bramble. He said nothing, there were no words to describe the wrench of his hearts.

_Rose swallowed back the tears. "No, leave me you must go."_

_It was all Ianto could do to remember to breath. His world went silent as the pound of his heart echoed in his ears. He could see his mother's mouth moving but the words were lost in his distress. _

_He ignored her, looking around the garden to find something to take her weight. _

_Lily's chair, it was small enough and sturdy. He ran across the slippery lawn to pick it up. _

_A distant scream pierced the air. Ianto turned his head to the dwindling landscape; his lips trembling as realisation pinched his heart. "Lily." His voice splintered into the looming darkness. _

_He pulled the chair to his chest as if it would ward off the terror lurking in the gloom. "I left her." The words came in short sharp bursts._

"_Ianto," Rose tried to reach him. "Ianto, listen to me, you must get away from here, it'll be back at any moment."_

"_I left her." He stated again. He swallowed. "I-I can't leave you, I can't…" His voice cut through the clog of salty tears._

"_Yes you can," she stated calmly. "I need you to do something for me, something very important…"_

"It was then she told me about the letter." Ianto looked down at the sheets of paper the Doctor held tightly in his hand.

The Time Lord followed his gaze feeling their weight in his grip. "But I couldn't leave," Ianto said softly through the part of his lips. "I just couldn't leave…"

_He placed the chair down under her feet, carefully manoeuvring it so it took the weight from her shoulders. "You have to go now, please Ianto." Her eyes held his, their silent entreaty speaking louder than the words. _

_He reached up and tenderly took her hand, letting its small span curl around her fingers, not wanting to let go. She smiled through the break of her heart. "Its okay, its okay but you must leave." His hand gripped tighter. "Ianto it's time to let go." Her words were soft but firm._

"_But I can't…"_

"_Yes you can, you must. Ianto… No!"_

_Something seized the material of his t-shirt, its toughened claws scraping into his skin as he was dragged backward and hurled to the ground. Water droplets splintered the air around him as he veered across the sodden turf, soaking into his clothes. The Slitheen towered over him, its hollow ebony eyes regarding him with both interest and hunger. Ianto tried to back away but the heel of his hands slipped on the moist earth, causing the bloated alien some amusement. With one easy stride it barred any attempt at escape, reaching down to grab his wrist. "Going somewhere little one?" It asked, as it yanked his arm upwards so it could look into his face._

"_Leave him alone you bitch!" Rose screamed as she hauled her body weight forward, in an endeavour to free herself. _

_Ianto tried to kick out but the Slitheen tugged on his arm, wrenching it out of its joint. He screamed in agony. The alien turned and looked at Rose. "But we're having so much fun, mother, surely it's not bedtime yet." It smiled, bearing its razor-sharp teeth that were still coated in blood. "Please just one more game? Nothing too rough, though, I've only just eaten." She shook Ianto where he dangled like an uneven pendulum, causing him to yell again._

_Rose slammed her feet against the wood of the door, bending her knees so she could get better leverage, her own pain forgotten._

_The Slitheen placed a hand on its chest and belched loudly, its rancid breath tainting the air. "Oh, excuse me, now that's made some room. Maybe I can be persuaded to fit in just one more little mouthful." It pulled Ianto nearer to its face and sniffed his cheek. "This one smells funny, not as sweet as that succulent little girl." It dragged Ianto higher, letting its glutinous tongue graze against the trickle of blood on his leg. "But there's a strange tang to his make-up, spicy and exotic, something distant and unknown." _

_It loosened its grip letting the small boy freefall before catching his wrist again. Ianto's joint cracked once more. A clawed finger stroked his face as the alien drooled and licked its thin lips. _

_Ianto tried to turn away from the unwelcome caress but the alien's hand held him fast. He looked into its black eyes and smiled. "I hope I give you indigestion," he spat with hatred. _

_The Slitheen's swollen body rippled with laughter. "Well, well you are an amusing little man. Maybe I won't eat you just yet, maybe I'll keep you, fatten you up a bit." It ran one of its sharp talons across his belly. A hiss of pain escaped from the young boy as blood stretched along the alien's mark._

_Ianto said something the alien couldn't make out; it drew him closer. The boy reacted quickly, bringing his forehead down on the alien's small nose. It screamed, pitching its attacker to soft grass to cup the injury. _

_Ianto tried desperately to roll away from the alien but for its size the Slitheen was fast, catching the boy's ankle._

"_I will make your death far painful than that of your mother's!" It promised with a cruel smile, pressing into the skin with one of its talons._

"_No, I don't think you will." A resolute voice from behind cried out. "Now put my son down!" _

_The Slitheen cast the boy from its hold and turned to met Rose's fearless stare. It gave her a dismissive laugh, only to be greeted by a fine mist that dampened its torso. It shrieked as the acid from the weed killer dissolved its skin in a series of small blasts, melting its plump green flesh and exposing its internal organs. _

_It lashed out, clipping Rose across her face with the spread of its claws but not before she had released another deadly shower upward at its eyes. Again the alien screamed, falling to its knees, its long fingers wrapped around its head, it an attempt to quell the spread of the corroding acid. The garden echoed to a crackle of explosions that sounded as innocent as firecrackers as the Slitheen's face slipped from its head._

_Ianto crawled away from its mighty bulk, seizing the other bottle and firing it heartlessly at the softening mass. His anger, his rage poured from his soul, fuelling the pump of the lever until the alien finally exploded leaving a pulpy green puddle and an empty bottle._

_The garden around him stilled as the night skulked from the periphery to pocket the fading light. Ianto looked down at sludge, gathering himself, drawing his thoughts inward and letting the mental shutters fall across his face. He didn't want to be hurt again and yet, as he took his first tentative step towards the still body of his mother, inside his bottled soul was screaming. _

The Doctor was watching the movement of the central column, breathing in time with its rise and fall. Inside the tears were falling, breaching the effigy of his being and renting his aged soul. He said nothing for fear that his emotion would overtake his reason, blaming and losing himself in the spiralling circle of bitterness and hate. He had been there once before, at the end of his time, until Rose had shown him the dawn again and given him light.

_Her breathing was ragged, her soft eyes spent and hollow against the ash of her face. Ianto knelt on the wet grass and gently took her hand, feeling the last remnants of warmth from her skin. She looked at him and smiled, gesturing for him to come closer. He carefully laid his small head on her chest and she rested her hand on his hair. They both watched the last fingers of strawberry light relinquish its hold on the heavens as the day gave way to the darkness._

_Rose made Ianto promise, once more, to bring the letter and then she smiled in the starlight, giving her last breath to say, "I love you."_


	15. It's Not Good For Your Health

SHINE

Chapter 15

_It's Not Good For Your Health  
_

* * *

The TARDIS lurched, spilling both men to the floor. Ianto rolled onto his back, straining to breathe. "What was that?"

The Time Lord followed his lead, looking up to the curve of the dome. "Grief," he explained, softly; his raw emotion channelling through the surrounding circuits.

Neither of them moved, lying against the cold floor, a foot apart, like opposing shadows in the artificial light of the TARDIS.

Ianto shut his eyes to hold himself in. "Her last thoughts were of you," he said. There was no reproach in his tone.

'_I love you.' _Spoken to the stars, to a man who lay beyond their light; Ianto swallowed.

The Doctor said nothing, letting his mind drift in his memories, allowing himself this moment of reflection. He pulled the handwritten sheets close to his chest as if he could touch her through the paper and time.

They stayed like that for a moment, each giving the other the time they needed, while the TARDIS whispered her secrets to the universe.

The Doctor sat up first; placing the letter in his pocket so he could brush the fragments of glass from his suit. He leant over the younger man and offered him his hand. Ianto's eyes opened, looking to the proffered limb a moment before allowing himself to be assisted to his feet.

They made their way over to the row of seats and the young man eased himself awkwardly into their fabric. The Doctor gave him a reassuring smile that filtered through his defences. The Time Lord sat beside him, looking at the Welshman's colourless pallor, noticing that the vulnerable boy was gone, coddled, once more, in the many layers that made up the fabrication of Ianto's self. He took out the folded sheets, smoothing them between his hands. "How?" He asked finally.

Ianto hesitated; the Doctor clarified the question. "How did you get here?"

Those unsettling blue eyes withdrew for a moment and Ianto gave an exhausted sigh. "A couple of months later…" His words faltered, his glacial expression melted. "…A month later, she, Rose came back." He looked to the Time Lord.

"A ghost?" The Doctor frowned slightly, trying to put the pieces in place, no scepticism in his voice.

"No, more an impression, an imprint." The young man manoeuvred himself further back into the chair, securing his arm around his injured rib.

_Ianto looked up from the bed; the transparent form watched him with eyes that glowed with a comforting yellow light. It stretched out a hand towards him and beckoned him from his sleep out into the night. It was time._

_No words were spoken as they made their way across the field to the two oaks, the grass slick from the night's rain, soaking into the small boy's slippers. _

_Underneath the join of their branches, in the shadows cast by their broad timber arms a rip in time shimmered, calling to those deep feelings in Ianto's soul. He looked towards the ghostly tear, cut like a diamond in the darkness around him, the gap illuminated from within. 'Rose' took his hand, leading him towards the passageway between universes until he was engulfed by its phosphorescent light. _

"I ended up in Cardiff in my pyjamas," Ianto recalled with a small smile. "When Torchwood was called, I told them all I could remember was my name and some flashing lights…"

"You changed your name to Jones," the Doctor interjected.

Ianto nodded. "I thought it would make it harder for them to pinpoint where I'd come from."

"They still questioned you though?" The Time Lord added.

Ianto dismissed the enquiry with a lopsided shrug. "For a while but I guess small boys in their pyjamas weren't considered a threat back then."

"What about the letter, they didn't find it on you?" The Doctor looked down at the written sheets.

Ianto blushed. "I hid it in a soft toy, a bear, they never searched there."

The Time Lord smiled. "No, I guess teddy bears weren't on their list of potential threats either."

Ianto gave a wry grin. "In the end Torchwood took me in, gave me an education and sent me to Uni."

"And you ended up working for them?" The Doctor surmised.

"Thought it would be the best place to wait to give you the letter. The rift had sent me backwards, before I was born, before you met Rose, before she had died." He looked away. "I had to bide my time."

Ianto stared at a shard of glass on the floor, knocking it with his toe. "It must've been hard for you," the Doctor stated. "Especially at Canary Wharf, knowing what would happen?"

Ianto swallowed. "Yes," he said softly, grinding the splinter under his sole.

"But it was out of your control," the Doctor placated. "If you'd tried to stop it you would have caused a paradox, damaged time and that would have had disastrous consequences on this timeline."

Ianto nodded weakly, toe poking another splinter, focusing on its translucent glint. "It doesn't make it any easier. You were there; you know what it was like. So many died; they were like family, it was my home. You can't imagine…"

"Yes I can," the Time Lord answered, falling into the screams of his own past.

Ianto watched him for a moment and then looked back to the floor. "It was hell." He said finally.

The Doctor ran his finger along the fold of the letter. "'If you're going through hell, keep going.'" He quoted, gently.

Ianto turned back. "Churchill?"

"Yep, you know I met him once…"

"But I didn't," the young man stated softly.

"Meet Churchill?"

"No, keep going. I stopped and brought a demon back with me." The young man took a shuddering breath, which he quelled instantly.

The Doctor opened up the pages, bending them back on their crease. "Ianto, sometimes we can't help our hearts or where they lead us. Sometimes it's hard to let go. Sometimes it's hard to be alone."

Ianto met his eyes and the Time Lord felt his soul stir. "It hurts." The Welshman put in.

"Yes, it does." They both looked to the movement of the central column.

They settled into silence for a while, letting the TARDIS' soft whisper reassure them. The Time Lord looked down at the powder remains under the Welshman's shoes. "How long has it been since you came through the rift?"

"Eighteen years." Ianto stared ahead, waiting for the inevitable question.

"What about your family? Surely somebody missed you?" The Time Lord circled around his intent.

"There was only Tad-ca and I didn't figure in his grief."

"No one else?" The Time Lord stepped carefully.

"Ricky was busy picking up the pieces of government. The only person who probably noticed I was gone was Sarah Jane." A shy smile crept on his face. "She became a regular visitor after Mam…" He left the rest.

The grin spread across the Doctor's lips. He could see the reporter drawn to what he only could imagine was a very precocious child. "Good old Sarah Jane," he whispered, watching the young man from the corner of his eye.

Ianto blushed at the name; the Time Lord nudged him playfully. "You had a crush on her." He remarked.

The young man cast his eyes to the floor but he could not hide his deepening colour. "I miss her." He admitted in a low voice, turning back to the Doctor.

The Time Lord was staring across the room, a nostalgic glow in his eyes. "Yeah," he said quietly. He blinked, turning his attention back to the Welshman. "What about your father..?" He invited, finally.

Ianto swallowed. The TARDIS stopped abruptly, causing the Doctor to jump to his feet. Everything went still; time paused and waited. The lights dimmed.

The Time Lord's gaze cautiously surveyed his surroundings until it came to rest on the younger man.

Their eyes caught and held.

The Doctor stepped back in realisation. "Now wait a minute…."


	16. I Know That You Can Change

SHINE

Chapter 16

_I Know That You Can Change_

"You kissed," Ianto said simply.

"Yes, yes a few times and once it wasn't really her, although it was her lips… But that's beside the point, I don't know what they're teaching in schools nowadays but you can't…" The Doctor stumbled over his words as he began to pace.

"You kissed when the vortex was inside her." Ianto's stare remained fixed ahead, ignoring the addled steps of the Time Lord.

"Well, yes of course I did, to save her life, I mean, it killed me, well the other me, with the ears and…" He looked at Ianto's and saw his old self staring back through those soft blue eyes.

He shook his head as his mind swam with the progression of thought. He spun round, his trainers squeaking against the floor and dramatically pointed a finger in the air. "When we kissed I may have, _could have_ transferred a spark." He held his thumb and forefinger slightly apart and squinted through the gap. "A tiny imprint, a fragment of myself, of my regeneration energies, which would have been enhanced with the exothermic flux from the vortex."

He stopped and nodded at this, savouring it for a moment before continuing his measured steps. He looked back at the Welshman, assessing the distance between them that was more than just length. He felt it, their affinity, their connection, as sure as he felt these protective walls around him.

'_You are not alone'._ The old voice, cracked and broken echoed through his soul.

The Doctor turned his face away and looked to the floor, a part of him still in denial, still needing that leap of faith. The TARDIS began to hum around them, her light spilling on their tableaux, coaxing the Time Lord to listen to _her_ inner voice. He began to pace again, his index finger tapping his lips. "Of course it would have been rendered inactive when my regeneration was complete…"

He walked over to the console and spread his fingers on its surface looking to the transparent core. "…Remaining dormant because of my proximity…"

He followed the flux of the central column as if asking its deity to refute his logic. "… Until we were separated and her link to both me and the TARDIS was severed."

He turned round to the Welshman his eyes sparkling with awareness. "It would have then initiated the regeneration sequence but on a much smaller scale." A smile spread across his face. "Searching until if found the thing that would bring about the renewal of life; the fertilisation of one small cell…"

'_You are not alone.'_

"…One egg." He strode across the room to where Ianto sat. He seized the young man's shoulders and pulled him up. "My eyes, it was there all along, my eyes and I just didn't see it!" He let out a small laugh that matched the grin on his face. "Be thankful you didn't get the ears or the nose, or the receding hairline. Then again you could have ended up with curls, all very seventies and a really bugger when wet…"

The Doctor took a step forward; Ianto stiffened slightly. Both men hesitated on the moment, holding their breath in the swell of emotions bounding between them. The Doctor stepped back and slowly reached out his hand; Ianto swallowed and blinked back all that he had held in for so long. He looked to the Doctor for a moment before carefully letting his fingers brush against the older man's open palm. The Time Lord curled his grasp around the Welshman's hand and Ianto could feel the pulse of the Doctor's hearts through his skin. "I…I…" The young man pulled away and returned to row of seats, his back to the Time Lord. The courage to say what was in his heart, gone.

The Doctor followed, keeping his distance. He folded the letter carefully and draped it on one of the metal arms, sticking his hands in pockets out of habit. He cleared his throat and spoke with a nonchalant ease. "It wasn't Rose."

Ianto looked over his shoulder, the soft light outlining the contours of the dark suit. "What?" His hand clasped the back of one of the chairs, crushing the vinyl between his fingers.

"It wasn't Rose who brought you through the rift it was her." The Doctor gestured with a nod of his head at the TARDIS. "Eighteen years ago, she broke down on me. Well, I thought she had, she just sort of went quiet and most of her internal systems shut down. I tried some percussive maintenance to get her going again." He pulled out his hand and flexed it, wincing with memory. "She let me know in no uncertain terms that she didn't want me meddling, the old girl can be a bit temperamental sometimes. The light's still cracked over there." He pointed to the wall. "Second row, third one down." Ianto didn't look round.

The Time Lord took a seat by where the young man was stood. He rested his elbows on his knees and looked ahead. "We were near a star collapsing under the force of its own gravity…"

"A supernova?" Ianto turned to the Time Lord; he nodded.

"Like I did with Rose, she channelled the exploding star's power to make a bridge between universes. She brought you 'home' because she could back then, because she's as much apart of you as Rose or I."

The Welshman gave an ironic laugh. "That would sell a few tabloids," he commented. "I can see the headline now, 'parented by three beings, a human, a Time Lord and a sentient police box.' Is it any wonder I've got issues?"

The Doctor gave a small grin. "It would sell in three galaxies that I know of," he offered.

Ianto's lips twitched and he collapsed into the seat beside the Time Lord, wincing with the action. "You didn't answer my question earlier." He turned his head to watch the older man.

The Doctor sat back. "Which was?" He asked carefully, running a hand through his hair.

"Did you love her?" Ianto's voice deepened with emotion.

The Doctor's eyes revealed the slow healing wound of his hearts. "I burnt up a sun to tell her."

"But you didn't, you left it unsaid." There was no recrimination in the Welshman's tone.

"I was getting there," the older man replied awkward. "I just ran out of time."

Ianto gave a slight snort and relaxed back, closing his eyes. "That's rich coming from a Time Lord." A smile played on his lips. "She always said you were a bit wordy."

The Doctor looked at him for a moment, a grin unfold on his own. "Did she?" He glanced at the letter and picked it up.

Ianto watched him unfold it and gaze at the handwritten words. "She never gave up on you." He said softly. "Even though she knew there was no going back, in her heart she always hoped…" He paused, feeling the pain spasm on his side. "She always said to expect the impossible from you."

"Well, I guess I've built up a reputation…" The Time Lord sighed. "Did she meet anyone else?"

Ianto closed his eyes again to try and control his breathing. "Ricky proposed a couple of times but it was never serious, they had changed too much." He looked at the Doctor. "Grown apart."

The Time Lord nodded. "Well at least she had you." He looked to the photo again, his fingertips resting on that smile.

Ianto's expression clouded, making his face appear older. "I think sometimes that made it worse," he whispered, his voice straining with heartache.

They settled into silence, the TARDIS breaching the gap between them with the soft bustle of her being.

Ianto inclined his head to the Doctor. "What about you and Martha?"

The Time Lord puckered his brow. "Me and Martha?" He shrugged. "It's different." He acknowledged kindly. "With Rose it was as if she was almost too good for me."

"She was," the young man answered quickly.

The Doctor gave a snort. "I said almost…" He gave an impish grin.

"Strangely she never said the same about you," Ianto replied.

The Doctor looked up with interest, his eyes bright. "What did she say about me?"

The young man looked away, a light smile pulling at his lips. "That you were…" He let his eyes roll to the ceiling. "…Needy."

"Needy!" Doctor jerked forward in the seat.

Ianto's fingers stroked his chin in thought. "Or maybe it was 'nerdy'?"

"Oh and let's not forget 'wordy'." The Time Lord sulked, sitting back heavily.

"That as well." Ianto smiled. "Would you like to know what Jackie thought?" They looked at each other, trading grins.

"So you and Martha?" The Welshman posed again. "You seem close."

The Doctor shrugged, remembering Ianto's jealous outburst earlier in the day. "She's a very understanding girl. She's had to be. I'm afraid I made a lot of comparisons early on, sort of forgot myself. It's been hard for her. But as I said before, it's different, then again isn't every relationship?"

Ianto nodded, feigning interest on the time rotor. "And Jack?" He asked with circumspect, guarding his heart.

The Time Lord's head turned to look at the young man; Ianto's fingers anxiously gripped the material of his shirt. "Sorry?"

"You and Jack," the Welshman reiterated, without catching the Doctor's inquisitive stare.

The Time Lord folded his arms. "There is no _me and Jack_. There never was on my part at least. You know what he's like, he exaggerates the truth…"

"You came back for him…"

"Nah, he just stowaway as I was passing. Like a limpet but harder to detach." He chuckled lightly at the encounter. He turned back to Ianto. "He needed my help and I gave it."

"And yet he's still here, with you, travelling the universe." His voice sounded crestfallen.

"And Martha." The other man interjected, hopefully.

Ianto turned away from the Doctor's clever gaze, his face far from hopeful. "And Martha," he repeated sourly.

The Time Lord watched him a moment. "Jack's encounter with Abaddon left him dead along time. He needed to find himself again; he needed answers, somewhere away from…"

"His responsibilities." The Welshman's accent became more acute.

"Yes, if you like but haven't we all needed that at sometime Ianto. To get away, loose ourselves." The Time Lord's gaze fell into the younger man's.

Ianto swallowed remembering Lisa, remembering Jack, telling himself he was doing it for her. He looked away.

The Doctor's gaze lingered on the floor, scuffing the remains of glass with his foot. "Do you love him?"

Ianto looked across the expanse of his emotions, tasting the lie on his tongue but his heart betrayed him. "Yes," he replied, the truth leaving no stain.

The Doctor glanced at the younger man. "He'll break your heart you know."

"He already has," Ianto whispered, to the strain of his vocal cords. "But as someone once told me, 'sometimes we can't help our heart or where it leads us.'"

The Time Lord relaxed into a broken smile. "I should really clean this up." He sighed, indicating to the broken glass.

"I'll do it sir," Ianto insisted, making to stand. "After all it's my mess."

The Time Lord stayed him with hand to his shoulder. "You know you were wrong," he stated with a sincere smile.

The Welshman frowned, feeling the warmth of the Doctor's touch through the heavy material of the suit. "What, you never been wrong before?" The Time Lord enquired.

Ianto rolled his eyes serenely. "About what?" He met the Time Lord's gaze.

"Her last thoughts were of you not me. The letter." He held it up. "She wrote it to make sure you'd find me, find us. She made sure you'd come home."

Ianto swallowed. _'I love you.' _It was said for him.

A chaste tear glided down his cheek, reflecting the interior of the TARDIS in its curve, freeing some of his inner turmoil.


	17. So Clear Your Head And Come Round

SHINE

Chapter 16

So Clear Your Head And Come Round

The Doctor scooped up the ice-pack. "So what now?" He looked to the Welshman, thrusting a hand into his pocket to locate a silver key. "You want to take her out for a spin. I know a great moon in the Quadlinan system…"

Ianto watched the light dance on its hoary surface as it dangled provocatively in front of him. He shrugged. "I guess I'd like to go home."

The Doctor caught the key mid swing. "Home, home, you're here." He whirled round. "I'll make up the guest room. Well, I'll have to put Martha downstairs or I could sleep on the sofa for a bit until I tidy one of…"

Ianto stood up. "I can't stay," he said decisively.

"Why ever not?" The Time Lord gave a wide grin. "We could do some father and son stuff. Tour the galaxies, time, you name it."

"Father and son stuff?"

The Doctor pursed his lips. "Well yes…"

The Welshman shook his head. "But I'm not am I. I'm just a surplus speck…" He held his thumb and forefinger apart.

The Time Lord caught his shoulders. "Oh no, you're so much more than that. You're a wonderful gift of life in a galaxy full of surprise."

Ianto tried to move away but the Doctor kept his hold firm. He smiled at the young man kindly. "Rose was right, Ianto, you have to let go, let go of the past. Step out of the shadows and be more than the sum of your parts."

He shrugged off the Time Lord, shaking his head. "I've been pretending so long, I'm not sure I know who…"

The Doctor stepped forward once more. "Then let's find out together." He held out an open palm. "' Life is just a chance to grow a soul…'"

Ianto gave a frustrated sigh. "More quotes?"

"I've been around a long time!" The Time Lord defended.

The Welshman gave a grunt of amusement. The Doctor reached out and placed a hand on his chest. "Don't tell you can't feel it, in your heart, that you belong here, with us?"

Ianto shut his eyes, absorbing the other man's touch. "Yes", he whispered in reply, again the layers slipped from his face to expose the lonely child beneath.

The Time Lord took another tentative step forward, baring himself to Ianto's slightly embarrassed stare. Silence pooled around them in awkward ripples as the Doctor pulled the young man to him, enveloping him in a strong embrace. Ianto's stiff posture yielded to the older man's warmth, letting his head fall against Doctor's shoulder as their bodies overlapped and their hearts beat steadily in pulses of four. They both closed their eyes, savouring the light of the other's being, feeling a closeness that had been stolen from them both.

The Doctor's fingers lightly combed through Ianto's hair, letting his mind bask in the memory of his own past and a child of long ago. He went to speak but the words froze on his lips as he felt something in the darkness just beyond them, something deadly and disturbingly familiar. He let go and stepped back, his expression distant, his eyes holding a flicker of hostility.

Ianto felt it too, creeping from the shadows of space and casting a glance in their direction. He shivered, sensing its deepening stare and malevolent intent.

The Time Lord moved way from the Welshman to the control panel. "What was that?" Ianto asked.

The Doctor busied himself setting several dials. "Just a hug, got a bit sentimental there for a moment. Cardiff you said, right? Be there in a jiffy." He hit a button and the TARDIS lurched to one side.

Ianto steadied himself by holding onto the console. "Cardiff?"

"Yes." The Time Lord avoided eye contact. "I've had second thoughts. You, me, bad idea. I've travelled with family before; they just get in the way, under foot…"

Ianto caught his arm. "No, wait a minute." He shook his head. "I felt something…" He paused, his eyes narrowing. "You felt it too, something out there, watching us, like you but…"

The Time Lord looked down at the Welshman's grip and then followed it up to his concerned gaze. "…Evil," the Doctor completed.

Ianto nodded, searching the others man's face as it changed from light to shadow. Holding onto the Doctor's endless gaze, he said, "you are not alone." The words seemed to resound off the young man's lips with darkening significance. "There's another Time Lord out there."

The older man took a meaningful breath and leant against the disk of the control panel; Ianto's hand fell to his side. The Doctor's gaze focused on his own laces, his eyes looking beyond the double bow. "I wasn't sure at first but when we connected it must have amplified the echo I've been feeling, that little voice in the back of my head. I ignore it, of course, didn't think it was possible, thought it was just my imagination. But I was wrong, he's alive."

The Time Lord shook his head. "But that's what he's good at, surviving, no matter what the cost to anyone else. I should have known." The last statement was uttered through gritted teeth as the Doctor hit the surface of the control panel.

"Who?" Ianto invited.

The Doctor cast a look in young man's direction. "It doesn't matter but you can't stay, not now, it's far too dangerous. Rose wanted me to keep you safe and I'm going to do that. I'm taking you back to Cardiff and away from me."

"Why?"

"Because he's a Time Lord, a very clever and treacherous one and my sworn enemy. I don't need, want you caught in the middle." The Doctor turned one of the controls and the TARDIS spun noisily.

"You fear him more than the Daleks?" Ianto's voice was just audible over unsteady tremors.

The Time Lord threw him a look. "Yes!" He hissed, bitterly.

"Why?" The young man was almost shouting,

"Because he betrayed us." The Doctor stretched out a hand and caught the Welshman before they toppled to the floor.

The TARDIS came to a halt.

Ianto looked to the Doctor as they stood in the smothering silence. "He betrayed his own people?"

The Time Lord drew a laboured breath. "Yes, to save his own skin."

The Doctor hand lingered on the young man's arm. "This isn't goodbye," he assured him.

There was something in the Time Lord's eyes that made Ianto accept that this was a promise made to keep. It was enough that the Doctor had said it because experience had taught the young man that some promises never make it to fruition. He nodded. "How will you find him?"

The Time Lord gave a snort. "Oh, I have a feeling he'll turn up, like a bad penny," he added.

"I'll keep Torchwood off your back, then." The Welshman replied straightening himself in the borrowed suit.

The Doctor frowned. "Why do you think they're always three steps behind you?" Ianto asked.

The Time Lord shook his head. "Their incompetence and my superior intellect?" He shrugged.

Ianto gave a cynical smile and raised a knowing eyebrow. "I think that would be _my _superior intellect, sir."

The older man inadvertently ruffled the Welshman's hair. "I bet it would," he answered proudly with a deepening smile. "Thank you," he whispered, close to Ianto's ear.


	18. You Only Have To Open Your Eyes

SHINE

Chapter 18

You Only Have To Open Your Eyes

-------------------------------------------

The weather was breaking across the bay. The storm clouds had been soothed into muted wisps of grey, curling on a blustery wind which also folded the expanse of water against both bricks and boats.

Jack lent on the door of the police box, arms crossed, the Doctor at his shoulder. The Captain took a deep breath of mixed air. "No place like it," the Time Lord commented.

Jack turned his head, lazily, his eyebrows enquiring. "Home," the Doctor enlightened.

The American gave a slight chuckle and turned back to the leaden scene broken only by a flash of white underbelly from several scavenging gulls. Jack watched the seabirds ride the fluctuating gusts to feast on the discarded remains of last night's chips and curry sauce.

"Miss it?" The Time Lord enquired, following the other man's gaze with indifference.

This time Jack stayed focused on the city. "Cardiff?" He supposed.

The Doctor remained silent. "Yeah, I guess I do," Jack said in reply.

"Well, I can imagine, it must be hard for you, playing second fiddle to my genius all the time." The Time Lord moved over to the flat screen.

Jack gave a lopsided grin. "Hey, don't flatter yourself Doc," he said, turning from the entrance. "I saved your arse a couple of times as I seem to recall."

The Time Lord answered with a smile, his own gaze sliding up as Martha and Ianto entered the room. "Everything okay?" He asked.

"I'm afraid my suit isn't dry yet," Ianto said, indicating to jacket and trousers draped smartly over his arm.

"Well you might as well keep that one, a souvenir of your time on board. Martha was right anyway, it does look better on you." The Doctor looked at the medical student who blushed.

She turned to the Welshman. "So this is goodbye," she reflected, tucking her hands into the back pockets of her jeans.

Ianto gave her a warm smile. "I guess so."

She returned the gesture and hesitantly touched his sleeve. "You need to look after yourself and rest, okay?"

He placed his free hand over her own. "Okay Doctor."

"Not yet," she replied, leaning forward to kiss him on the cheek. Her lips stayed close to his ear. "Thank you," she whispered before pulling away.

"It was nice to meet you Martha Jones." Ianto nodded his head slightly.

"Likewise," she said with a radiant smile, absently smoothing down one of his lapels.

"So here we are, Cardiff," the Time Lord informed them, gesturing to the open door. "I guess we'll say our farewells and go our separate ways." He frowned. "Never been very good at the 'goodbye' end of things."

A small smile tugged at the young man's lips. "No, I believe that's a general failing of yours," he answered. "May I suggest, if the need arises in future, that you keep it concise."

The Doctor cleared his throat. "I'll bear that in mind."

"And if I may sir, perhaps I could convince you to purchase some 'grown-up' shoes, before I leave." Ianto inclined his head. "There are a number of good retailers in the city."

Martha stifled a giggle, causing the Doctor to look down at his footwear. "Nah, it'll be a waste of good leather." He rocked back on his heels. "I like to go for comfort." A smile exploded on his face.

"Evidently," Ianto responded with a discerning eye-brow.

"Well, it was a pleasure Ianto Jones." The Time Lord offered the young man his hand.

Ianto took it firmly. "Yes Doctor it was." A mirrored smile graced both their lips, much to the bemusement of the other two passengers who exchanged identical frowns.

"So, Ianto, you sure you can't be persuaded to stay?" Jack posed, resting a hand on his hip, a cocky smile playing on his lips.

The young man let his hand fall from the Time Lord and turned to his colleague. "Torchwood Three can hardly afford to be another man down sir."

Jack crossed his arms defensively. "Is that a reproach, Mr Jones?"

"No sir, just a fact," the Welshman answered smoothly, his expression unmoved.

Jack seemed to loose a little of his self-confidence. "Ianto…"

"They need me, sir," Ianto offered. "You don't." His gaze held the other man's.

Jack took a step forward. "Look, I…" He shook his head and masked his face with another smile. "I'll be back soon," he said finally, shoving his hands deep in his pockets.

Ianto nodded curtly. "Of course you will sir," he retorted, pushing his shoulders back into the material of his suit.

"So, this isn't goodbye Ianto, okay."

Ianto's gaze remained steadfast. "Noted," he replied a little too tersely.

He cast a look in the Doctor's direction; the Time Lord nodded his final farewell.

Ianto let his fingertips linger on the console, feeling the warmth of energy spread through him. He took a last look around the TARDIS and its occupants before exiting the police box.

Jack watched him go through the open door. "How does he do that?"

Martha crossed her arms across her chest. "Make a suit look good?" She theorized.

The Captain lips fell into an errant smile. "No, make such a simple remark so cutting?"

The Doctor inhaled with thought. "I'd say he gets it from his grandmother."

Jack nodded. "Really," he replied absently as he watched Ianto limp away.

His head then snapped towards the Time Lord, his eyes narrowing. "Really? Say Doc…"

"Don't even ask Jack."

The American went to say something but instead flicked his gaze back to the young man. He smiled tenderly. "Intriguing," he sighed.

"Oh no, so much more than that," the Doctor whispered, softly.

Jack couldn't help but nod.


	19. You Might Just Get A Big Surprise

SHINE

Chapter 19

You Might Just Get A Big Surprise

* * *

The Doctor pressed the control to close the doors but they stubbornly remained opened. His eyes scanned the room and then he smiled. "It's time, isn't it old girl?" He enquired under his breath. "But it's not me that needs convincing," he added reflectively.

Martha came across. "What's the matter?" She asked softly.

"I think it's time," the Doctor whispered, looking to the American stood by the entrance.

Martha followed his gaze and nodded. "I think he's the only one who doesn't realise it," she remarked.

"Well, let's see if we can't _persuade_ him," the Time Lord said handing her Jack's coat.

Martha smiled. "Oh, I don't think it'll take much," she added, walking over to join the Captain.

Jack was watching the retreating figure of Ianto fall so easily into the gunmetal streets. He sighed, shaking his head a little as if to clear his mind. "You know, I never realised how much I miss it, here…"

Martha crinkled her nose. "Cardiff. Well I suppose its okay…"

"No, Earth. You know what I mean?" He looked to the medical student.

"Yeah, but it's my family I miss more, although sometimes space travel has its advantages …"

Jack frowned slightly, Martha smiled. "Lots of ongoing family stuff," she explained.

He nodded, drawn back to the dusky whisper of a scarred city. He set his shoulder against the wood, filling his lungs with the sodden air, watching as the boats tipped gracefully with the swell. "Hey, what about some lunch? There's this great Italian place just…" He moved his head from side to side, loosening the tight muscles in his neck.

The Doctor smiled to himself. "Look Jack, any other time I'd jump at the chance but we really should be heading off. We've already stayed here too long as it is. We've got places to go, planets see. I promised Martha a tour of…"

"The white lagoons on Renil," Martha added quickly. "By sailboat if I remember rightly?"

"That's right," the Doctor replied with a snap of his fingers. "And you know time and tide wait for no man." He gave Martha a grateful smile.

The medical student grinned back, looking over Jack's shoulder, her arms behind her back. "That rib won't heal without rest," she stated, softly.

Jack nodded, a small grin spreading on his face. "Ianto can be stubborn," he acknowledged.

"Shame no one's looking out for him then," she posed, her voice rippling like silk.

Jack turned, pushing his back into the door frame. He looked at the Doctor. "It's time isn't it?"

The other man weighed the question. "Only if you think it's right."

Jack looked down at his shoes. "I guess my travelling days were numbered the moment Ianto turned up," he reflected, crossing his arms. "Kinda reminded me where my responsibilities lay."

"Torchwood?" The Time Lord raised his eyebrows, pursing his lips with the question.

The Captain blew out his cheeks. "Among other things, yeah." He rocked back shaking his head. "God, I hate this."

"What, feeling guilty or duty bound?" The Time Lord asked.

Jack laughed. "Both." He looked back at the Doctor and sighed. "Oh, what the hell, Martha hand me…"

The medical student pulled his coat from behind her back and handed it to him. Jack looked from young woman to the Time Lord, his eyebrows arched in surprise. "You knew?" He asked, pushing his arms through the sleeves.

The Doctor lent against the console. "Oh, I had an inkling," he replied smugly.

Jack shook his head as he buttoned his coat. "You read minds now?" He posed.

"No, just people, Jack." the Time Lord answered.

"Well, remind me never to play poker with you."

The Doctor gave a soft laugh. "I'm more a solitaire player," he answered wistfully.

"Yeah, figures," Jack replied with a grin.

Martha threw her arms round the Captain's neck and hugged him tightly. "You take care Jack."

"I will mom," he said, placing a kiss on her cheek. Martha cuffed him on the shoulder.

"Look after the Doc for me," he added with a wink.

"Full time job," she replied, turning briskly on her heels.

Jack strode across the room. "Look, thanks for everything you've done Doc." He offered the Time Lord his hand. The Doctor gripped it tightly as if squeezing the life from the flesh.

Jack looked down at the handshake and then to the other man. The Time Lord pulled him nearer. "Don't fool with that boy's feelings Jack. If you can't give yourself to him completely then let him go and find someone who can. He deserves that, he deserves to have some love in his life, not just what you deem appropriate to throw in his direction."

"Are you warning me off Doc?" The Captain raised, his smile set.

The Time Lord's grip remained unyielding. "Off course not, why would I do that. I'm just offering you some friendly advice."

"Which is?" His tone was challenging.

The Doctor leant closer to the American's ear, his breath warming the skin. "Don't hurt him Jack, because that would upset me and you really don't want to piss-off a Time Lord. That would be bad, very bad." His smile could not hide the grave look in his eyes.

Jack gave a terse nod. "Noted." He wrestled his hand free. "Of course you realise you've just piqued my curiosity." A mischievous grin graced his lips.

"Tread carefully Jack," the Time Lord warned, his eyes like granite.

The Captain gave a lopsided grin. "You know me Doc, like I'm walking on eggshells."


	20. And It May Feel Good And You Might Want

SHINE

Chapter 20

And It May Feel Good And You Might Want To Smile

* * *

Ianto was sat on a bench his eyes closed against the sombre tide of the weather. Jack stood for a moment looking down at his unruffled appearance, his face seemingly younger in its serenity.

"Looks like they've gone without you again." Ianto's lips curled softly with the comment, his eyes remaining closed

Jack looked over his shoulder; the blue police box had, in fact, vanished. He placed a foot on the bench and let his gaze settle on the hammered pewter of the water, watching it lurch and fall with the wind. "This time I left by choice." His voice was stiff against the flurry of the buffeting breeze.

"So you're here to stay?" Ianto opened his eyes, encompassing the older man in their broody stare.

Jack pulled the collar up on his coat. "Yeah, looks like it."

Ianto turned his attention inward, pulling his gaze away from the Captain. "Tosh and Gwen will be pleased."

Jack lent an elbow on his knee. "And Owen?"

A smile strained at the young man's lips. "Relieved," he said finally.

The American nodded. "Mind if I sit?" He asked.

Ianto shrugged. Jack took it as consent and sat down, splaying his coat on either side. He folded his fingers together as if in prayer. "And what about you?" He posed gently.

The Welshman shifted a bit on the bench. "Are you here to stay this time or will you be taking another impromptu sabbatical?" The indifference in his voice had gone, its tone warming the air with its annoyance.

Jack smiled. "I'm not going to lie to you Ianto, I can't say how long I'll be staying. I'm a man out of my time but somehow you knew that, didn't you?"

The young man turned to him, a gust of wind stinging his eyes. "It was a really shitty thing to do Jack, to leave without saying goodbye, without leaving a note."

"It was all kinda last minute…." He tried a smile.

The young man was not swayed. "That doesn't excuse…"

"I'm sorry." Jack held that familiar gaze, his voice sincere, pulling the stitches on Ianto's heart.

The Welshman's gaze fell to the silver glint of the puddles. "It's not just me, Jack, it's the whole team you need to apologize to."

"And I've started with you, Ianto." Jack inhaled. "So, am I forgiven?"

The Captain watched him deliberate, the haze of his emotions etched on his face. "You don't need my forgiveness," the young man whispered finally.

"Yes I do." He could feel Jack reaching across to him, even though the older man was motionless. "Ianto…"

The young man stood up and moved a few feet away, Jack settled back on the bench, crossing his leg over his knee. Ianto looked out over the bay, aware of the other man's scrutiny. Jack put his hand over his heart. "Next time I'll leave a note, I promise," he declared with sincerity

Ianto looked down at him and sighed, wincing against the pain. "You're a shit, Jack, you know?"

The Captain smiled and patted the space beside him. "Yeah, so I've been told numerous times."

Ianto sat down, placing his arm against his rib. He gave the American a sideways glance as he tried to make himself comfortable, again, on the wooden slats.

Jack smiled, his posture relaxed as a party of school children passed them, their small feet eagerly displacing many of the puddles much to their harassed teacher's chagrin. Jack gave them an encouraging grin only to incur the same teacher's wrath as she ushered her charges quickly on with a brusque Scottish burr.

Jack waited until the tiny convoy had snaked its way out of earshot. He lent forward resting his elbows on his knees. He fixed his gaze on the stone of the ground. "The letter, it was from Rose." It wasn't a question, more stating a fact.

If the young man was caught off he didn't show it. "Yes," he replied, closing his eyes again as if to suppress himself. "It came through the rift."

Jack turned his head, watching the Welshman intently. "At Canary Wharf?"

Ianto remained like a pale effigy. "No here," he replied.

The American's eyes narrowed, digesting the information. "Here, then how come I've never seen it before?" His voice remained soft.

"Because Torchwood never knew of its existence." Ianto looked at him. "I brought it with me when I came through the rift." He let the words fall as easily as the rain.

Jack closed his eyes on the disclosure and nodded. "You crossed over from a parallel Earth," he said in comprehension.

"Yes," Ianto stated calmly.

Jack smiled with admiration. "And you managed to smuggle the letter through all the security checks?"

"It was before you're time, sir, the checks were more lax back then." Ianto glanced at him.

"Before my time," Jack pondered. He laughed. "Were they sloppy or did you use that Welsh charm of yours?"

This time Ianto smiled. "I don't know what you mean, sir."

Jack lent forward again. "Oh, I think you do."

The Captain turned his head, considering the other man. "There's more isn't there?"

Ianto held his gaze. "There always is," he remarked, evasively.

Jack laughed. "Ianto Jones man of mystery," he reflected against the wet concrete.

"I think you're confusing me with Austin Powers, sir," Ianto responded.

The Captain sighed, his gaze falling back to his hands. Ianto swallowed, watching the other man muse on folded knuckles. "Jack, if you really want to know the truth you can just ask me."

The American looked up and grinned. He placed a finger to Ianto's mouth. "God, I love the way you purse your lips around my name."

The young man went to respond but Jack kept his finger against his mouth. "It was enough that you were going to tell me Ianto," he said softly, quickly assessing there was no real threat in the young man's revelation. "Besides, I love a good pulp mystery." His grin fell to one side. "I find it _alluring_." His eyes shone with a wayward charm.

"Are you comparing _me_ to a Sexton Blake novel, sir?" Ianto parried the other man's gaze.

Jack chuckled. "Sexton Blake? Nah, you're more of a Theodore Marley Brooks," he mused.

"Ham to your Doc Savage…?" Ianto eyebrows rose.

"Hey, don't knock the comparison; he was often ranked as one of New York's finest dressed men." Jack's eyes trailed the young man's attire.

"Doc Savage, a hero of yours? I always figured you for more of a_ Biggles_ man." Ianto looked to the sky as the sun sliced through the outlining clouds.

"Nah, Biggles was just a little _too_ British for my taste, _chum_." Jack loosened the buttons of his coat.

Ianto grinned. "So, Doc Savage, man of bronze, kind of appropriate, sir."

Jack gave a warm snort. "Yeah."

Ianto considered this for a while. "Well, I guess that would make Owen, _Monk_," he furnished with a sly smile.

Jack looked at him and laughed out loud. "Yeah, I guess it would."

The Captain stood up, yanking at his braces. "How about a cup of coffee?" He turned his head to the younger man. "If you feel up to it?"

Ianto cocked an eyebrow at him. "Back at the Hub?"

Jack shook his head. "Just you and me, you can apprise me of what's been happening since my absence."

Ianto stood. "Your treat?" He asked with misgiving.

Jack pulled out the linings of both trouser pockets. "I hope you're not going to do an elephant impression in public again, sir. You might get arrested this time."

"Hey, if it'll get me a cup of coffee…" The American shrugged.

"So, you've no money?" Ianto scolded.

"Didn't need any on my travels…" Jack gave him a pleading look.

Ianto rooted in his pockets. "Well, I've got one pound, eighty three," he informed the other man pushing the coins in his palm with his thumb. "I believe that won't get us through the door at most coffee establishments."

Ianto's eyes strayed to a well used billboard. "Although, the Methodist is having a coffee morning. I believe I can stretch to two cups of powdered, store brand coffee and a couple of home-made cakes."

Jack crossed his hands over his chest. "Ianto Jones you're a genius, did I ever tell you that?"

A grin tugged at the young man's lips. "A few times, sir," he answered.

Jack matched his smile, his eyebrows lifting. "Oh, yeah," he said in recollection.

"Perhaps next time you could show your appreciation in my pay scale." The Welshman man picked up the suit that was draped over the arm of the bench.

"If it'll keep you in suits, I may consider it." Jack held out a hand. "And before you say it, I've never paid for anyone to remove their suit either."

Ianto fixed him a look. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean, sir."

Jack clicked his tongue and shook his head. "I've missed Cardiff," he whispered under his breath.

They started to move towards the side-street, indicted by the makeshift arrow on the billboard, when Jack turned back to the bench. He jumped onto the slates and stood determined against the City. He placed his hand on his heart, his heavy coat billowing like a sail on the whim of the wind.

"_Let me strive every moment of my life to make myself better and better, to the best of my ability, that all may profit by it. Let me think of the right and lend all my assistance to those who need it, with no regard for anything but justice. Let me take what comes with a smile, without loss of courage. Let me be considerate of my country, of my fellow citizens and my associates in everything I say and do. Let me do right to all, and wrong no man."_

The blustering breeze curled around his oath taking both it and the clouds to the depths of the horizon.

Ianto looked up at the other man as Jack inhaled deeply. "Very nice, sir, more Doc Savage?"

"His pledge to the world, I thought it just seemed appropriate."

"Well, the alien hordes must be trembling in their boots sir, or what ever footwear alien hordes sport, probably trainers if the Doctor's anything to go by."

Jack looked down with a smile. "I just wanted to let the City know I'm back."

Ianto smiled back. "Oh, I think it does, sir, look the sun's out."

Jack looked up to the heavens and laughed.


	21. Don't You Let Your Demons Pull You Down

SHINE

Chapter 21

Don't You Let Your Demons Pull You Down

-----------------------------

Jack watched the young man as a dream settled on his thick lashes, causing them to flicker momentarily in the kaleidoscope of unconscious thought. He silently walked across to the bed and laid the covers back over the sleeping form, smiling as he unevenly tucked them under the mattress. He paused, letting his eyes linger on the sweetness of Ianto's youth, skin that had scarcely been touched by time's censuring hand, appearing silky and soft in the pale light.

He looked away, weighed down by age and crushed under the foot of time.

He reached out, tempted to touch the ethereal form, as if the contact would bleed through his fingertips and cleanse his tattered soul. As if the frailty of youth would make him mortal once more.

He hesitated, noticing how his shadow, elongated by the landing light, darkened the young man's features. He stepped back, distancing himself.

'_If you can't give yourself to him completely then let him go and find someone who can.' _

He left the bedroom, crossing the landing to the small bathroom. He turned on the tap, cupping his hands under the flow of water, letting its coolness ride the ridges of his toughened palms.

'…_give yourself to him completely…' _

"It's been so long, Doc," he whispered to himself, thinking of Estelle. "I don't know if I remember how too."

He watched as the pooled liquid began to trickle through the cracks of his fingers slowly down to his wrists. "I don't know if I want too," he added finally.

He drew his face nearer the bowl of his hands and baptised himself in the water's limpid tears.

'_Don't hurt him Jack.'_

Jack looked back at the ageless man in the modest mirror over the sink, gazing to his own eyes for answers. "Someone always gets hurt in the long term," he confessed to the priest of his reflection. "Our hearts are so malleable, yet they tear so easily."

He touched the glass, letting his fingertips trail the soft creases around his face, a map of each smile, each frown; every emotion that had surfaced from the fractures of his 'resilient' heart.

He lent on the sink, watching the last drops of water trickle down the hungry plug hole, which gurgled gratifyingly.

'_He deserves that, he deserves to have some love in his life, not just what you deem appropriate to throw in his direction.' _

He looked again into the steel of his own eyes and saw there was just a man, a man who wanted, needed…

'…_he deserves to have some love in his life…'_

"Don't we all Doc, don't we all."

He turned off the tap.

Downstairs, he pulled open a blind so he could watch the dawn chase away the ragged remnants of yesterday's cloud. It would be a glorious day. Jack closed his eyes and listened to the mixed chatter of the birds until they were obscured by an early City train and the wail of a distant siren. He smiled, moving away from the rain smeared window, letting the sun's sensual rays bathe the sparse sitting room with its newly born light.

Jack looked to the bolt on the front door. How easy it would be to walk away, to run but the Doc had given him back his conscience and now, thanks to a quirk of fate, he had the whole of mankind to safeguard. He laughed, shaking his head at his penance.

He turned his attention back to the contrived room, his gaze searching for something more personal than the pristine books arranged on the dust free shelves. He let his fingers brush the rise and fall of their orderly spines, noticing none of the titles boasted the betraying crease of being read.

A photograph greeted his curiosity, two smiling faces young and relaxed in the summer of their dreams. He walked over to the fireplace and picked it up, studying the two blithe spirits trapped forever between the glass and the frame. A poignant smile pressed at his lips as he thought on the fragile moment, caught and pinned like a butterfly to preserve its beauty in a darkening world. Ianto and Lisa, a testimony to youth and love.

Jack's own reflection overlapped that of the young man's image and his thoughts returned to Estelle, of a similar photograph, of a love never truly allowed to fully blossom. Jack had walked away because staying would have proved too difficult, too painful. Ianto hadn't. He had believed in love, he had clung to hope only to have his faith washed away in blood and bullets. He was young and naïve. It was hard lesson, one that time taught well, yet Jack still craved that conviction he saw staring back at him.

He swallowed and put the frame back down on the white expanse of the mantle.

He picked up his glass of water, rubbing away the ring it had made on the glass coffee table. He sipped it slowly and sat down on the pale, two seater, which seemed to swamp the room. He settled himself in its comfort, observing how the cushions were bowed with frequent use. A faded wine stain daubed one of the angled arms, still holding a rose coloured tint around the edges of its bloom. Somehow he knew the sofa had travelled with Ianto from London, that it was a piece of his shared past with Lisa, just as he knew it was she who had split the red wine.

Jack followed its uneven spread with his fingertip. Ianto had left it, when everything else had been wiped clean, bagged up and thrown out. The stain remained, a reminder, a reproach, a stigma that could not be removed, like the blood on his hands.

Jack looked down to his palm, as if it was suddenly tainted, as if the mark had transferred to his flesh. He rubbed it on his trouser leg just to be sure.

He lent forward and rested his water back on the table, picking up the discarded bottle of painkillers so he could close the lid. He turned the container in thought, listening to the roll of tablets as they fell against the plastic.

Ianto understood him more than any of the team as if he knew the complexities of his soul. The young man gave him space and support without judgement, gave him the solace he needed; maybe even the redemption he craved; yet what was he getting in return?

Jack looked up to the photograph again, realizing they were both seeking the same thing; each other. He laughed out loud. Two jaded souls afloat on an erratic tide of emotion; surrounded by shoals of broken ghosts and shattered dreams and a few man eating Weevils.

He shook his head, it wouldn't stand against a tornado and yet it had been born from the ashes of Canary Wharf. Fire, blood, death and love.

Jack plonked the pills back down and clasped his hands together, his two index fingers making a trilogy with his nose. He gazed down through the frosted table at the orderly stack of magazines on the shelf below; by their side a small wooden box caught his eye. He reached under the table to retrieve it.

He held it reverently in his hands, respecting its age and craftsmanship. It was a mottled, rich, ginger and chocolate mahogany, its lid inlayed with a simple marquetry flower. It smelt of beeswax, venerability and careful ownership but it was the small brass plaque that held his interest; for engraved in script upon the antique metal was the name, 'T. Latimer.'

He smoothed the pads his fingers over the imprint of the italic letters, rubbing each dint as if it would bring the genie of knowledge to him. He let his hand fall from the decorated lid to the front of the box. A bantam key, held by a faded red cord to the base, was still protruding from the lock. His fingers lingered on its tempting circlet, the vintage metal cold to the touch.

He chewed the inside of his cheek. _'Jack, if you really want to know the truth you can just ask me.'_

Jack gave a lopsided grin. "Ah, but where's the fun in that?" He answered himself, turning the key.

The catch clicked open and he lifted the lid.


	22. Cause You Can Have It All

SHINE

Chapter 22

Cause You Can Have It All

'_Doc_

'_Sorry for going all cliché on you but, if you're reading this then I'm afraid I've got some bad news for you. I'm dead. Keeping my finger's crossed that I died with some semblance of valour and not screaming like a girl!! Ha, ha._

'_Not been sleeping too well lately, bad dreams, making me a little edgy, that small voice in my head a haranguer of doom. I've tried to ignore it but I have this bad feeling, I guess if you're reading this then maybe it was kismet._

'_I'm not scared, I face death each day at Torchwood, so it is an eventuality but I am frightened for Ianto. _

'_By now, I hope, you would have worked out just who he is and I also hope you have given him a better explanation on how he came into the world than I did. Okay, scrap that, I know you would have and in your usual, 'wordy', theatrical style. I've always known it was something to do with the kiss and the regeneration process, seeing as we didn't, well, you know._

'_Word of warning, just in case you ever run into Mum, she didn't believe me. Apparently she had seen too many 'immaculate conceptions' when she was growing up (her initial words on seeing her grandson for the first time were, 'don't even think about calling him Jesus.') So, she now thinks you're some sort of alien pervert, intent of touring the universe to deflower young maidens in some underhand alien mating ritual (hence the need for regeneration, so you're not recognized by irate family members.) You may have some explaining to do there, good luck with that!!_

'_Mum can be a bit scathing at times (I can see you nodding your head saying 'really!') especially with Ianto. I think it's because he reminders her so much of you (although in some respects they're a lot alike). Sometimes, listening to the banter between them I can't help but smile, Ianto can hold his own against that acid wit of hers and floor her with just a few simple words (a bit like you used to do). I know both Mum and Dad will be there for Ianto if anything happens to me but they have enough on their plates with Lily and Dad's job at Torchwood (he's head of the development side of things). Oh BTW Lily's their daughter (looks just like Dad)._

'_Looking back, now, I wish I could have been a better mother. It was far easier for me being Rose Tyler, Defender of the Earth than just plain old Rose Tyler, mum (although the rewards were far greater - a smile, a laugh, watching him sleep, listening to him read his first book, naming the stars together, I could go on until I run out of paper). Look who's getting 'wordy' now!'_

The Time Lord smoothed his finger over the paragraph. "No, Rose, just sentimental." He smiled as the emotion touched his heart.

'_I guess, in retrospect, like all mothers, I wanted to protect him, for I knew what was out there, the evils in the universe, but that also took me away from him in more ways than one, even though I tried so hard not to bring 'work' home with me._

'_I can see I'm getting close to the end of the page, so I'll say thank you, Doctor. Thank you for all that you gave me, I've never regretted a single moment. How could I when it brought me so much? _

'_Well, this is it then, goodbye. Look after him for me and just in case you need to be told, don't screw it up.'_

There was a small ink dot where the pen had rested against the paper for a while. The Time Lord shut his eyes and imagined the young woman, pausing, looking into her distant memories and smiling.

'_I love you.'_

He touched the words.

'_Forever yours,_

'_Rose Tyler, _

'_Mother._

'_P.S. I've enclosed the front page of The Mail, just to prove that 'Mickey the idiot' __**is **__Prime Minster and a damn good leader. Perhaps you could put it up somewhere in the TARDIS, just to remind yourself that sometimes you can be __wrong__ mistaken!' _

"Bad news?" The Doctor turned towards the question. He had been so absorbed in the letter he hadn't noticed Martha come and sit quietly beside him.

A smile brought him out of his reverie but he was looking beyond her. "And good," he remarked softly.

Martha lent forward, resting on her knees. She turned her hand to the Time Lord. "You dropped this." She handed him the photo of Rose and the baby, the light glinting off its glossy veneer as she twisted it towards him.

He met her eyes; Martha swallowed her words, faltering on the timbre of her bruised heart. "She looks happy." She said gingerly, trying to ignore the words written on the back.

"Yes she does." The Doctor's gaze never left hers as he reached for the image.

Martha held it a moment longer. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to pry…" He said nothing, the diamond of his stare cautionary. She let it go.

The Time Lord took it from her and folded the letter, tucking the photograph in between the sheets. Martha watched him consider the neatly folded correspondence before depositing it back in the envelope.

He jumped from his seat. "So, you fancy the lagoons of Renil?" He asked, snatching the glasses from his face as he walked to the console.

Martha stumbled slightly in the wake of his burst of energy. "I…" She stuttered in reply.

The Doctor turned a dial which complained with a wounded clack. He looked towards the young woman, launching into an endorsement. "It'll be fantastic, oh, now there's a word I haven't used in a while." He grimaced slightly, chewing and rolling his tongue. "That's better, anyhow, the lagoons of Renil, the double sunset of its citrus suns, a bottle of sparkling Basi, the lap of its foaming, white, waters and they do a lovely devilled sea slug, stuffed with…" His thumb and forefinger cupped his chin in thought. "Some sort of Renolian vegetation, it'll come to me, give me a minute…"

"Sea slug?"

The Doctor examined the time rotor. "Hmm, it tastes like chicken." He turned his attention back to her, that large, schoolboy smile flooding his face. "What'd you say Martha Jones?"

Her eyes drifted to the letter. He gently lifted her chin. "Just you and me this time, no ghosts, I promise."

She smiled. "Have you ever kept a promise?" She asked mischievously.

"Once or twice," he replied with a sly quirk of an eyebrow. "Now run along and change into something Nautical."

She saluted him. "Aye, aye Captain." She turned away.

"Piksacrystil and Ligwig wax!" The Time Lord exclaimed.

"Bless you," Martha returned.

The Doctor gave her a bewildered expression. "What? Oh, no, no its what they stuff the slugs with, Piksacrystil and Ligwig wax."

Martha rolled her eyes. "Sounds appetizing."

The Time Lord nodded. "Yes, yes it is, you should try it, it tastes just like…"

"Chicken," she chimed in, turned back to the inner door.

The Doctor smiled and returned his gaze to the console, bending close to a flashing light. He scowled, tapping it with his finger. "And don't forget to bring something waterproof." He stood back, still focused on the light.

Martha paused. "Waterproof?"

The Time Lord glared at the troublesome glow, bringing the end of his fist down on the panel. The light stopped flashing. "That's better." He turned another dial.

"Doctor?" Matha sighed.

"What? Oh, yes. Renil has three moons which in certain months can be a bit tidal in a sort of wall of water type way."

She gave him a questioning look. "But don't worry, the ride is, well, out of this world." Again his smile floored her.

She matched his grin. "Well I've always wanted to try sea slug," she remarked, closing the door behind her.

The Time Lord rocked back on his heels and pushed his hands in his pockets. He looked down to the letter. "Ianto Jones eh? Well, it's almost John Smith," he beamed and around him the TARDIS hummed contentedly.


	23. Hey, Let Me Know You

SHINE

Chapter 23

Hey, Let Me Know You

Jack picked the pocket watch from inside its wooden housing, putting the folded note, which lay on top, close by. It felt weightless in his palm, the touch of its metal, clement and unworldly.

He rubbed his thumb over the intricate designs scored onto the brassy gold of its outer case, their configurations reminding him of a sea chart. Perhaps this was a deck watch, used with a sextant to determine a ship's position but lines held no bearings and the cordon of overlapping circles seemed to be random decorations; yet it was familiar to him.

He traced the patterns with his fingertips, pausing as he felt the deep groove of the centre circle. He followed its furrow until his touch drifted to the smaller ring at its core and the line extending to another point. A Time Chart, his memory whispered, an infinite map of possibilities and outcomes within universes.

He had seen this before, at the Time Agency. There was a fragment of a journal from the early nineteen hundreds, an ink drawing of a pocket watch with these same markings on it. It had been framed and mounted on the Director's wall, with a piece of what was once its leather cover. An inscription below had read, 'is this an early attempt at a Time Chart? Did our ancestors know how to map time?'

It was derogatory, of course. Time maps of the fifty-first century were crude and elementary in comparison, their sole purpose to iron out any expanding ripples and fluctuations. But Jack knew, from his travels with the Doctor, that time was never as two dimensional as he had been taught.

He opened the hinged outer case, his hand trembling slightly as its face was unmasked. Roman Numerals seemed to float on its iridescent dial, revealing the mechanism beneath, as if it was a window to the timepiece's soul.

Jack watched, no, was drawn to the hypnotic unwinding of time, regulated and balanced on a hairspring.

Tick, tick, tick.

It seemed alive, almost sentient, as if it contained the all the mysteries of Pandora's Box and all of the answers.

Tick, tick, tick.

Unnerved, Jack rested the watch on his knee, unable to close the case. He reached forward and unfolded the note.

It was written in a careful script, the letters embroidering the paper in loops and swirls of a forgotten art, but on closer inspection the ink betrayed a trembling hand. One of age, that, unlike the watch, could not hold onto time.

'_Scarborough, 1998_

'_Dear Mr Jones_

'_The enclosed pocket watch came into my procession when I was a pupil at Farringham School many long years ago. It was given to me by one of the masters there, a very charismatic fellow with more 'time' on his hands than he knew what to with._

'_All I will tell you of the events leading up to my receiving the gift of this enigmatic timepiece is that it marked the end of my childhood._

'_For many years, I believed, that I was given this as a memento of that occasion but now, I realise, that it was a keepsake to be passed on when the 'time' was right._

'_I cannot begin to explain how I know this for I gave up on explanations many years ago but I do know he would want you to have it._

'_It saved my life in mankind's darkest hour and I hope it will serve you as faithfully. _

'_Please pass on my regards when your paths cross._

'_Yours sincerely_

'_T. Latimer.' _

Tick, tick, tick.

Jack folded the note and picked up the pocket watch, knowing he had all the pieces to an elaborate puzzle spread over time. He gazed at the light dancing in rainbows across its translucent face, each colour a different question bowing for an answer.

Tick, tick, tick.

The section of cover at the Time Agency had gold lettering embossed on the leather. A single J followed by a dot, someone's initials, the journal's owner. Underneath, four more, F.A.R.R. Jack looked back to the note. Farringham.

'…_a very charismatic fellow with more 'time' on his hands than he knew what to with.' _

The Doctor, it had to be the Doctor; J. Smith, his alias. Jack laughed at the irony; it was the last vestiges from the Doctor's journal adorning the clandestine walls of the all knowing Agency.

He looked back at the watch, the advancing seconds pulsating through his hand. But why would the Doctor want Ianto to have the timepiece, what was their connection?

Tick, tick, tick.

Rose. The letter was from Rose, Ianto had brought it through the rift.

'"_It was before you're time, sir, the checks were more lax back then."' _

'_Before his time,'_ that had bothered him. Jack had worked for Torchwood for many years but had only started working out of Cardiff in the early nineties, becoming its head after Canary Wharf. So before his time would mean Ianto would have been a child when he came through the rift.

Why would Rose entrust such an important document to a child?

'"_No, Captain, you needed the Doctor. You want this life, gallivanting over the universe, no ties, no responsibilities, leaving the rest of us to clear up the crap he leaves behind. I saw the longing in your eyes, the desire, just like…"'_

"…Just like Rose," Jack said to himself, holding the watch higher in his palm, watching the gossamer glint of light guide his thoughts.

'"_No you just conveniently lose them!" Ianto baited. "When did you last think of Rose, Doctor?"_

'…"_How opportune for you that she could be so readily replaced."'_

It had been a wounded remark, filled with anguish and love, petulant and accusing, like a child caught between two divorcing parents.

He rubbed this thumb around the dark stamp of Roman Numerals. Rose wouldn't have trusted just any child with the letter, only her own. Ianto was her son.

The second hand whispered its agreement as it swept passed the twelve.

Tick, tick, tick. A new minute, a new question.

But why would she send her own son somewhere he couldn't return from? Why force such a separation on them both just to deliver a letter?

He knew the answer even before time froze on the face of the watch, the second hand black and still against the sheer dial. He looked away. It was her last letter; Rose was dead. It had been carved on Time Lord's face, lines of grief that he couldn't conceal.

Tick, tick, tick. The pump of his blood became one with the movement.

Jack looked up at the photo again, at those impenetrable blue eyes. He smiled, there was no resemblance of Rose in his face, in fact he looked more like….

He swallowed.

The brooding stare, the quick mind, the dry wit, it had been there the whole time and he had known, in the far reaches of his mind the impression had been there.

'"_Don't hurt him Jack, because that would upset me and you really don't want to piss-off a Time Lord. That would be bad, very bad."' _

'…_like a child caught between two divorcing parents.'_

…The Doctor, his doctor.

Jack snapped the watch shut for fear its echo would be like the cry of distant drums; some secrets were dangerous.


	24. You're All That Matters To Me

SHINE

Chapter 24

You're All That Matters To Me

Above the dark vehicle fine arteries of static light blazed across the brooding sky while the thunder bitched in the humid heat of an aimless summer.

Ianto watched the fat droplets expand against the windscreen, the landscape becoming myopic as the heavy rainfall spanked the ground, washing the surrounding countryside in its downpour. He sighed, opening the window slightly, letting the organic smell of churned earth bathe the exterior of the car and dispel its inner mist.

The passenger door opened and the comforting smell of fish and chips eddied around the confines of the car.

Ianto turned his head; the Doctor smiled. "I brought two, thought you might be hungry." He passed the young man a greaseproof parcel.

Ianto looked out at the isolated spot, while the Time Lord unwrapped his own bundle, turning over the edges to make a makeshift plate. "I stopped off on the way, Cellardyke, best fish and chips, well, in this universe." He explained, sniffing the aroma. "Nasty weather," he said, rubbing droplets from the shoulders of his coat.

"Cellardyke in Scotland?" Ianto turned his head, watching the water flutter to the floor.

The Doctor nodded, looking down on his feast. "Huh-uh."

"This century?"

The Time Lord smiled. "I didn't know about salt and vinegar so I left it off but I brought ketchup." He delved into his pocket and brought out two packets, dangling them in front of the young man. "Oh, and some forks."

Ianto gave a wry smile and took both from the older man. "Thanks," he whispered.

The Doctor made a small tear in his tube of sauce and looked across at the Welshman, waiting. Above them lightening grabbed at the sky and hailstones began to fall. Ianto met his stare than looked back at his lap, feeling the warmth from the food seep into his knees. He started to open the layers of grease proof, spreading them neatly over his lap. He looked up and sighed. "I'm confused," he began.

The ketchup overshot the meal as the Time Lord squeezed down on the packet. "I'm hardly the right person to be asking about this, I mean, I know I've travelled the universe and…"

Ianto looked at the burst of red now decorating the dash. "Vobis, the Erusions, did it happen?" He took the handkerchief from his breast pocket and leant over to mop up the sauce.

"Ah…" The Doctor put the depleted packet down and sucked the red blobs from his fingers

Ianto continued. "I woke up the day after I'd left the TARDIS and Jack was gone, it was as if he never came back with me at all. The bruising had vanished and my ribs were healed. Then, then there was this business with Saxon and the Toclafane, a whole year of surviving, watching the Earth die and be mechanically reborn, seeing friends murdered for…" He swallowed. "…for fun and then everything just resets, again, like it never happened. I feel like I'm in some twisted remake of Ground Hog Day!"

"You remember," the Time Lord mused, digging a chip from the mound on his paper island.

"Yes, but what, what do I remember? It's all hazy like déjà vu or scraps of a dream…"

The Doctor chewed the fried potato, the heat on his breath visible as he spoke. "The…" For some reason he couldn't bring himself to say the name. "…Saxon used the TARDIS to create a paradox machine to hold the universe together while the Toclafane invaded. _She_ used whatever energies she had left to pull Jack, Martha and me back from a corresponding timeline to offset the damage Saxon caused."

"So, Jack and I leaving the TARDIS was an alternate timeline that faded just to memory, mine, yours, Jack's and Martha's?" Ianto asked staring at the grease stains on the folded paper.

The Doctor nodded. "More melded, one overwriting the other to continue the string." He broke off a piece of fish.

"Didn't this timeline have similar versions of all of you?" Ianto posed.

"No, they had been killed by the Future Kind, I was on my last regeneration and Jack wasn't immortal."

Ianto carefully opened his sauce packet. "So the TARDIS re-wrote time."

"To save it." The Doctor watched the Welshman make orderly red patterns over his meal. "Then when the machine was destroyed time reversed to the point immediately before it was activated, which caused the other timeline to disappear into this one. They were comparable, you see, no different apart from our deaths. So this line can now continue unadulterated."

"And yet I still remember both events, events that never happened." Ianto held the older man's gaze for a moment.

The Doctor turned to look out at the storm. "Others will get the odd flashbacks, the healing process isn't perfect and as you know some are more perceptive than others. But you, you are a part of the TARDIS, the same machine that caused the paradox, you carry a part of her imprint, her shared memories." The Doctor lent across and dipped a chip in Ianto's sauce. "I'm surprised you've not discussed this with Jack?"

A flash of pain stung the young man's eyes. "Things are different between us." He looked at the Time Lord's face, gauging his reaction. "You know he's asked Martha to join us," he remarked, cautiously.

The Doctor watched the emotion bob in the Welshman's throat. "There was nothing between them," he replied, still seeing the delicate child beneath the surface.

"I know," Ianto said with a wretched smile. "I know." He picked up a chip. "She passed her exams." He enlightened.

The Doctor smiled. "Yes, I heard. Really should have done something about it."

"You sent flowers," Ianto replied, sucking the grease from his fingers.

"I did?" The Time Lord questioned with a smile.

The young man nodded. They both fell into a reflective silence while the storm buffeted the car. "You know, this was meant to be one of the hottest summers on record," the Doctor stated, watching the water plunge in sheets on the passenger window.

"Really?" Ianto looked out on the smudge charcoal of the sky.

"Yeah," the Time Lord nodded. "Messing around with the stitches of time can do that, change things like the weather."

"So nothing's ever set," Ianto mused. He pulled at the crisp batter of the fish. "And the Master, he's definitely dead?"

The Doctor froze, his eyes narrowing on the drenched landscape. "Why do you ask?"

"You said before, he's good at surviving, it's what he does…"

"I burnt the body," the Time Lord interrupted, the humour gone from his face.

"And yet…" Ianto completed, watching the other man intently.

The Doctor looked at him, all pretence gone. "I'm not so sure," he whispered just above the pound of the wind. "Sometimes I think I feel him watching. I reach out and grab nothing but laughter and thin air. It's just a dream, that's all," he persuaded himself.

Ianto nodded. "You should know Torchwood One has reopened. Not on the scale it was before, just a few warehouse offices but they have a whole unit set aside to apprehend you."

The Time Lord laughed. "And where are they now?"

Ianto smiled. "The foot of Ben Nevis, apparently there was a sighting of the TARDIS in the Distillery."

"An anonymous tip?"

Ianto nodded. "I'll bear that in mind," the Time Lord remarked, grabbing a handful of chips.

Ianto moved his opened parcel closer so the Doctor could continue dipping. The Time Lord smiled his gratitude. "Would you tell me a little about Gallifrey?" The young man asked.

The Doctor settled back against the headrest and gave a contented sigh.


	25. Hey, Let Me Show You

SHINE

Chapter 25

Hey Let Me Show You

Neil sat in his small office watching the clock idly whittle away the hour. His screen blinked momentarily and his narrow fingers manipulated the mouse, to view the woman he'd been monitoring. He watched her withdraw some cash and stuff it awkwardly into her purse, fighting the heavy clasp closed. He pressed his Bluetooth headset and handed her over to the units on the ground. He saved the surveillance to the hard drive and closed the image down.

Satisfied, he sat back in the soft, cushioned, chair, toying with the downy hair under his lip that he had been growing, for what seemed, most of his forty-three years.

'Bumfluff!' He heard his Mother's voice splinter through the monotonous hum of the room and he was drawn back a year to the flowery sitting room, the blank stare of the porcelain dolls, the collective smell of perfumed old ladies and the cackle of their rancorous laughter.

"_It takes a real man to grow a moustache," his mother remarked to her fellow church going crones. _

_They hooted with amusement like a group of horny Colobus monkeys, the impetus of their combined body weight enough to sink a large row boat._

"_Oh, but he does make excellent cakes," Mrs Philpotts exclaimed, stuffing another piece of honey cake in her over indulged mouth, her ill fitting teeth falling slightly with the action._

_His mother gave a disparaging snort, pushing her own plate away. "Neil, make another pot of tea and bring some of those iced-buns out, this cake is far too sweet for my liking. Really, you know how sugary things bring on my heart burn."_

'_Then stop eating them you overweight pig,' he thought but instead he smiled meekly and picking up the teapot went into the kitchen. _

"_Oh, and some more of that cherry slice would be nice," Mrs McLinden called after him. He stopped by the door and returned her excessive, red, smile that had seeped into her smoker's pout._

_His mother turned to view him from over the back of the chair, she creaked with the effort. "And when you come back, I'll need some socks put on, my feet are getting cold again. Did you turn up the heating?"_

"_Yes mother."_

"_Are you sure?"_

"_Yes mother." He felt his grip tighten on the teapot._

"_Well, bring the blue socks down, the Marks and Sparks ones Hetty bought me for Christmas. The yellow ones you bought are far too tight. I expect you got them from that Asian fellow's stall on the market." She shook her head and turned back to her friends who gave her sympathetic looks. "Some summer," she remarked, "when we have to have the heating on…"_

_Neil walked into the kitchen and filled the kettle with water, putting it onto the gas. He opened the nearest drawer and pulled out a box of matches, striking one against its side. He watched the flame creep to his finger until it chard his nail, hypnotised by its erotic dance, delighting in the small sting of pain._

"_Is something burning?" His mother's shrilled voice slapped him from his reverie._

_He blew out the glow. "No mother," he returned._

_He watched the curl of the smoke rise and breathed in the burnt aroma of its enchanting shadow. It took him back to Canary Wharf. _

_Fire and bodies, escape and freedom. _

_He smiled, he could still hear the others pounding on the door and the advancing metal footfalls echoing down the corridor. He had stayed for a moment, listening to their cries, pleading, beseeching him to open the door. It was within his power, within his control, their life, their death so he chose the latter. What were a few more bodies if it slowed the Cybermen down and meant his own survival? Leaving the door locked, he had turned towards the daylight with no regrets._

_He pulled out a serrated knife and set to work cutting into the cherry cake. Eight even slices in all, putting the ends to one side to place out on the bird table, later. He then reached for the packet of iced buns noticing that they had already been opened. His fingers brushed over the plastic, counting the contents. Five. It was meant to be a packet of six. She had eaten one, leaving five. Neil looked down at the display of cherry cake. He carefully pulled out four buns and arranged them on the plate also, his hand shaking slightly as he positioned them. He then turned his attention to the remaining bun. Picking up the knife he began to cut into it, dragging the blade savagely through its soft texture. "Bitch," he whispered as he sawed, "couldn't wait, had to stuff your face."_

"_Don't forget to warm the pot!" His mother's oppressive voice reverberated from the fusty confines of the living room._

"_I won't," he called back, submissively, removing the knife and placing it on the breadboard._

_He looked down at his hands, as if they were detached from his being, watching as they began to gouge and rip at the dough, squashing it in their fury until it was reduced to mound of compressed crumbs. He exhaled, closing his eyes, letting his irritation fizzle back under the surface, placing on his mask of congeniality. He put the crumbs with the ends of cake and then crossed to the sink to wash the knife. As the water bounced from the blade he decided that now he would have to kill her._

Neil checked the time again, it was still early. He walked over to a small alcove away from the main hub of his domain and spooned a level teaspoon of coffee into the delicate china of his mug. He flicked the switch on the travel kettle and waited for it to burst into life. He had gotten a taste for coffee at Canary Wharf, instant though, not filtered, couldn't stand filtered, too strong, too American. His mother would never allow any in the house; it was all too foreign for her palate. He smiled and toyed with his ID, pulling at the coloured Lanyard around his neck.

He heard the door go and the sound of measured heels walking to his desk. "Neil?" A polished voiced entreated above the quite drone of the computers.

He tucked his card into his shirt pocket and went back out; an ambiguous smile vaulting his lips.

"Were you hiding from me?" The young woman teased as he came into view.

"Um, no Miss Cole, I was just making a drink." He nervously indicated with his thumb and quickly sat down at the desk, pushing his shoulders back. He cleared his throat and pulled nervously at his moustache.

She ran a bright, red, fingertip around the wooden edge of his bureau. "Oh, come on, Neil, I don't call you Mr Down, surely then you could call me Lucy." Her lips pursed playfully around the sound of her name.

He gave her a shaky smile as he positioned his pad and picked up his pen, gripping its barrel a little too tightly while holding it close to the paper. The ink from the nib rapidly spread against the fibres of the ivory sheet. He pulled the tip away, diverting his stare from the brutal stain.

He looked up at her. "What can I do for you Miss, um, Lucy?" He asked crisply.

She rested her hands on his desk and leaned forward, the low neck of her blouse revealing the raspberry bra on the arc of her breasts.

He swallowed, wondering how the same article of clothing would look on him, curious to how the delicate lace would feel next to his skin or how the bud of his nipple would look bowing against the crush of the semi-sheer brocade.

He licked his lips, his mouth as arid as the desert.

He had tried on his mother's lingerie, after her demise, but hers had been solid, no-nonsense affairs with thick, ugly, straps for total support. Lucy's underwear hinted at the carefree with no controlling wires or rigid cups.

"Are you looking down my top Neil?" Came the purr of her soft voice.

He quickly averted his eyes to the swell of ink marring the virginal page. "No, no I was just…"

She smiled slyly. "It's okay, I mean, we're friends aren't we?"

She moved around behind him, setting her small hands to work on the knots in his shoulders. He stretched into her soothing caress, the lure of her Ambery perfume intoxicating his mind.

She moved her lips close to his ear. "I need your help Neil." Her breath was refreshing against his skin, unlike the ragged, stale, gasp of his mother's as she slipped into death.

"W-what do you need?" He stammered, turning towards her mouth.

She smiled, the fading shade of cardinal on her lips contrasting against her colourless skin, white as milk, pale as…

'_And I looked, and beheld a __pale horse__: and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him.' _

…Death

She inclined her head. "I need some _information_," she began.

He laughed despite the growing unease he felt. "Well, you've come to the right place." He picked up his pen. "What do you need?"

She reached across and grabbed the Parker from his hand, the heavy ring on her finger splitting the light. "This is an _unofficial_ enquiry, if you know what I mean." She ran a fingertip over his cheek.

"Classified and for my eyes only," she illuminated. "I need secrets Neil, those dark little things we suppress and hope no one else will discover for fear that they will destroy us. We all have them, some more than others and some are _murder_ to keep."

Her stare crystallised, reaching into the glass of his being. She nuzzled his cheek and sang into the shell of his ear. _'"__Yesterday I got so old, I felt like I could die. Yesterday I got so old, it made me want to cry. Go on go on, just walk away. Go on go on, your choice is made. Go on go on and disappear. Go on go on, away from here..."'_

Neil froze, watching the light recoil from her ring as if it was afraid to be confined upon its jewels. The lyrics danced in his mind, tearing his thoughts back to that cold November night.

_She had fallen out of bed; one too many gins could do that, especially doubles. Neil watched her struggle with the bulk of her weight like an upturned beetle unable to right itself. She called his name until the slur of her voice became horse. He walked over to her and smiled, touching her face. _

"_What took you so long?" She admonished._

_He stood up. "Well come on, help me back into bed, I could die of cold led here." _

"_Yes," he replied, smiling to the gods of fate._

_He stepped over her incapacitated form to the window and pulled back the curtain. The night was veiled in ice. He smiled again and opened the casement wide, letting the raw ghost of winter expel the ardent spirits from the room._

_He then turned the radiator off and pulled the bed clothes away from her grasp._

"_Neil, what are you doing, come back, come back this instant!"_

_He didn't look back as he shut the bedroom door. He went to his own room, sat in front of the mirror and carefully applied his mother's lipstick, the solid colour worn down through its frequent Sunday use. He then lay on his bed and listened to Inbetween Days, by the Cure, on repeat until morning._

"She didn't die straight away," Neil's voice drifted around the office in monotone, his gaze never leaving the mesmerising effect of the ring.

"Yes," Lucy replied with apathy, yawning into her hand. "Never get tired of hearing you tell it." Her face lit up with a crazed grin although her eyes remained focused. "Some are meant to suffer that's how it is, others, like us are, well, we're here to party."

"Party, yes." The ring seemed to pulsate with rainbows.

"Can't let anyone stand in the way of a good party, now, can we?" Her voice swamped his mind as she caressed his cheek. "There's nothing purer and more unsullied, than the desire for revenge." She smiled, looking beyond him. "So that's why I need your help."

Lucy snapped her fingers, Neil blinked. "I'm sorry what were you saying."

"Torchwood three, I need information on their employees." She walked round to the front of the desk.

Neil looked up, unable to contain his glee. "But not just what's on their records." He added.

"We understand each other perfectly," she replied, reaching into her jacket pocket for a compact.

"And Captain Harkness?" He spat out the name.

She flipped open the small case and viewed herself in its mirror, letting a fingertip brush against her lip. "Hmm," she said in deliberation, assessing their wilting colour. "Of course, you have history, he passed you over for a job there, didn't he?" Her gaze remained on her reflection.

She pulled a lipstick from the same pocket and scanned its label. "Juicy Bubblegum," she mused twisting the base.

"He told me I was over qualified," Neil griped, covetously watching as she deftly spread the fuchsia hue over the crescent of her lips.

"Yes and he took on a boy half your age, that must have hurt." She pursed the colour together, observing the action in the circular glass. "Hmm, a little too pink for my taste, never really liked you in pink…"

"He's a liability," Neil carped.

Lucy rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to him. "I'm sorry, you were saying?" She snapped the top back on the wand of colour.

"Harkness, he's a liability," he repeated.

She laughed; the light dancing from the watery lustre of the succulent pink hue. "He's a freak," she chuckled. "But don't worry; he'll get what's coming to him." A sinister smile dripped from her freshly painted lips and Neil yearned to drown in the mesmerising colour.

"With your help of course," she directed sweetly; he shivered.

"Here," Lucy threw him the wand.

He turned it in his hand. "Your lipstick?"

"You keep it." She winked and turned back to her reflection. "I always preferred her in red."


	26. Hey Let Me Love You

SHINE

Chapter 26

Hey let me love you

Jack knew when the young Welshman had returned back to the Hub. Owen had shouted some lewd comment about as to why Ianto had taken such a long lunch, which Ianto had parried with all the skills of a master swordsman. He smiled to himself and went to the window overlooking the team's workstations. Ianto took that moment to look up, their stare holding one another in the seconds that passed and Jack knew, instinctively why Ianto was late. There was a spark about the young man, a brilliance that swelled from within and Jack knew its name; The Doctor.

He went back to his chair. He felt a jealous stir inside the chambers of his heart, he shook it off. Of course they would meet up after all they have a common bond.

He picked up his pen and looked at the mound of manila folders, he sighed. Ianto needs a… Jack blinked. … Someone… Something far more stable than the complex relationship that he could offer, maybe the Doctor could fill that void. He is after all his… Jack grimaced. It was conjecture on his part but somehow his gut instinctively knew, without a doubt, that the Time Lord was…

Why was it so hard to say? It was just a word, one word but he was strangely afraid that if he uttered it, it would bring some kind of damnation upon all their heads.

He massaged the back of his neck with one hand. Jeez he was getting jumpy. A year of death and chains can do that to a guy, he guessed. He needed to lighten up. Maybe a night on the town would settle his psyche. He at least deserved that. After all he'd helped save the world, more than once if he was truly honest. He should take some time to enjoy it, party and live it up a little. Maybe they all could make a night of it. A little team bonding…

He shook his head. Ianto. It would be awkward.

Jack tapped his pen against the desk and opened the first file. He was right to step back, before, before it all got messy. He knew from past relationships that it was the sensible thing to do. Hell, he still wasn't sure if it was Ianto that was the attraction.

It could be the residual traces of the TARDIS the young man must retain within his blood, something he shares with both himself and the Time Lord or even that he bears that slight resemblance to the, to his, Doctor.

The pen scratched out his signature. 'Keep telling yourself that Jack, keep telling yourself it's better this way, that it was a bad idea to begin with.' He threw the pen down and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

It'd had never been this hard before, even with Estelle. A stable relationship. Like the Doc's ever been that. Look how many companions he's got through over the years? And wasn't there a granddaughter somewhere in the mix? Wonder if he keeps in touch with her?

Wonder if she's still alive. The last thought whispered like ice in his brain.

He pushed himself back in the chair and stood up, hands in pockets. 'And he had the cheek to warn me off ! Like he's an expert. He let Rose go, okay that wasn't his fault of course but then there's Martha. God, that girl really cares for him and it was her who had to walk away. And then there's me. Okay, I'll admit it, I care for the guy too but the crush stage is defiantly over. Knowingly leaving someone stranded, years into the future, can be problematic in any relationship. Anyway, he's changed, not the man I fell… Well, not the same man altogether. That's why Ianto and me just wouldn't work, I could never be sure of my feelings, if they were true to him. It just wouldn't be fair... '

There was a knock at the door, without turning round the Captain bid them to enter.

The smell of fine roasted coffee, rich and dark like well kept secrets, filled the confines of the gallery office.

"Paperwork sir." Jack heard the mug make contact with the desk, he turned his head.

"Yeah, thought I'd make a start," he dismissed with a shrug.

Ianto coughed. "No, sir, I mean I've brought some folders I need you to go through."

Jack watched as Ianto set the files down on the corner of his desk. "Oh," he acknowledged, closing the distance between them.

He let the span of his hand settle around the warmth of the mug. He looked down at the deep tar of the liquid before looking at Ianto, the young man shifted anxiously. "Long lunch?" Jack asked.

The Welshman's smile seemed apprehensive, rain water still glossing his hair. "Yes sir, if you remember…"

Jack waved off the explanation. He picked up the coffee, drawn to the ripples the movement made. "You've seen him?" It came out a touch petulant.

Ianto watched the other man's stare drown in the liquid while he considered his reply. Jack looked up, resting his body weight against the edge of the desk. "The Doctor," he added as if the young man needed clarification.

"Yes." It was hesitant.

The Captain nodded. "He okay?"

Ianto nodded. "He passed on his regards," he replied, considering the other man. "How did you know?"

Jack gave a lopsided grin while his mind wrestled with an explanation. "I think we need to talk."

"Yes, sir, of course sir, what would you like to start with? May I suggest the weather?" The young man began bitterly.

Jack plonked the beverage down on the cluttered surface. "God damn it, Ianto," he said with an exaggerated sigh, pushing himself up from the desk. The movement caused the mug to rock precariously, slopping coffee over the rim.

"Sir," the young man made a grab for the teetering chinaware as Jack reached for him, catching his arm. The mug tumbled to the carpet.

Their eyes locked; their gaze one of dammed emotions on the brink of bursting forth. For that charged moment, Jack forgot his hesitancy and settled a kiss on the young man's lips. It was light and testing, almost timid in its sincerity.

His heart waited, the beat suspended for want of a response. And it came slow and rhythmic, desiring, yet fearful as if this shared moment was as precarious and precious as a silk web in a storm.

Jack let his lips fall from the other man's taking time to breathe. He felt Ianto swallow and pull his posture back. He looked up. "We _really_ need to talk." Jack let the words permeate the uncertainty between them.

The Welshman blinked, withdrawing slightly. "Ianto…" Jack fleetingly touched his cheek.

The young man closed his eyes, stemming the tide of his own heartbeat. "Yes, Jack, we need to talk," he conceded, letting his gaze rest in the pocket of Jack's own stare.

"Right…" The American began unsure where the hell to start.

"But not now, _sir_," he overstated the word. "We've an impromptu visit from the Ministry tomorrow."

Jack sat back against the desk, crossing his arms. "Impromptu eh?" He looked down at the spread of coffee.

"Yes, I still have some friends left…" He deliberated for a moment. "…Alive, in London. So you need to be clued in…" He indicated to the neat stack of folders. "…And nice, remember they pay the bills."

"And take their share of alien tech…" Jack raised his eyebrows.

"Only what _we_ deem safe." Ianto stepped back and tried to mop the spill of coffee from the desk with his handkerchief.

Jack stayed where he was much to the young man's annoyance. "Well no worries then. I'll just turn on my charm for Talbot, she could never resist my…" He watched Ianto swab around him.

"Mrs Talbot resigned, sir." The Welshman straightened up.

"What?" Jack crossed his arms in front of him.

"Some scandal involving her husband and …" Ianto considered his options. "…livestock." He carefully rolled the saturated cloth into a ball.

"Really, old Boris Talbot, well I never." Jack mused.

"I believe Mrs Talbot _never_ either, sir." He picked up the fallen mug and placed the handkerchief inside.

"Who's her replacement?" Jack enquired. "Not that weaselly little man with the squint…" He clicked his fingers to aid his memory.

"Granger, sir." The young man answered with a slight sigh.

"Yep, that's him. Couldn't stand being in a room with him for too long, halitosis that would strip the flesh from your face." He waved a hand in front of his face.

Ianto afforded him a small smile. "No, sir not Granger."

"Then who?" Jack pulled at his braces before crossing his arms again.

Ianto looked directly at him. "A Miss Cole, sir, a Miss Lucy Cole," he repeated with importance.

Jack frowned, a million and one thoughts clambering for his attention. Did Ianto remember?

"The same Lucy Cole who became Mrs Harold Saxon," the young man pushed finally.

Jack's stare narrowed, his posture stiffened. "You remember," he whispered. He then relaxed back against the desk. "Of course you do," he said with an ironic laugh.

The Welshman watched him. "As you said sir, we need to talk."

Jack snorted. "I suppose the real question is what does she remember and is she's on our side?" He turned his head toward the young man.

"She shot her _husband _surely that makes her one of the good guys." Ianto looked down into the brown stain of the mug.

"Does it? She sure took her time deciding what side she was on." Jack paused. "Have you met her?"

"Not yet sir, but my…" He smiled. "…My source tells me she joined the Ministry at her father's insistence when the senior position became vacant."

Jack raised his eyebrows. "All very convenient."

"Well, Lord Cole does have high political aspirations…" Ianto reflected.

"And what else does this mysterious friend in London say?" Jack inclined his head.

Again Ianto smiled. "To watch my back, sir, seems Miss Cole is very thorough."

The American nodded. "Good advice at any time."

"If I may offer you some, sir." Ianto interjected.

Jack gave the young man a wanton grin; Ianto rolled his eyes. "She will be accompanied by Mr Down…"

Jack nodded, the grin spreading. "Ah, Neil Down, my favourite pen pusher."

"Yes sir, so please let's not get off on the wrong foot with the new head of Alien Acquisitions. As I recall from my time at Torchwood One, and have told you on countless occasions, Mr Down is a little sensitive about his name so let's not ridicule…."

Jack gave him a pious look. "I never do…"

"Sir." The young man reprimanded.

"Oh, come on it's fun," Jack conceded.

Ianto's face remained stern. "Yes, well he never seemed to share his parent's sense of humour."

Jack laughed. "I wasn't aware he had one." He sighed. "You worked with him at Canary Wharf?"

The young man nodded. "We were both under the supervision of Professor Davis."

Jack gave a small grimace. "You know he came here for an interview after the battle?"

Ianto sounded surprised by the Captain's statement. "Really?"

The older man nodded. "Yeah, told him I wasn't looking for a desk jockey. Think I may have upset him, didn't take rejection at all well. What did you make of him?" Jack looked down at his shoes.

"I found him slightly introverted, sir," Ianto answered. "Although he did make some excellent cakes."

"Well I found the guy creepy," Jack recalled. "And now I have to suck up to him."

"Yes sir, well, being the head of Torchwood Three isn't all about big guns and alien containment, now..." He gently pushed Jack off the edge of the bureau. "…You'll need to get through _all_ of these." He indicated to the large stack of files that he had brought with him. "These are the cases Torchwood dealt with in your absence." He swiped some droplets of coffee from the desk before setting them nearer the chair.

"Didn't Owen already show me these?" Jack enquired, nonplussed.

"Yes, sir, but this time you really need to read them."


	27. Shine Your Light Over Me

SHINE

Chapter 27

Shine All Your Light Over Me

Lucy looked at her reflection in the long, ornate, mirror. She smoothed down the diaphanous layers of the red dress, taking a while to let the spread of her hands caress the curve of her bottom. A covetous smile extended across the gloss of her lips; it did not match her face.

"Does my bum look big in this?" She turned sideways, surveying the soft folds of material and the sequin and satin flowers stitched down the back of the garment.

She grabbed a handful of buttock and squeezed it. "Oh, come on, I always wanted to say that."

_Do you really want me to answer? _ A confined voice spoke from within.

The tone that answered was more masculine. "That's the problem with the upper classes no sense of humour." The painted lips pouted slightly.

_Why are you doing this?_

"Doing what hon, getting dressed for dinner with the folks?" She watched her reflection as she shimmied to the mirror. "And if I say so myself we look damn hot."

_Torturing me, keeping me alive, trapped within myself?_

Lucy rolled her eyes skyward while her hand mimicked someone talking. "Me, me, me, me, me."

She gave a theatrical sigh. "We made a vow, for better for worse, richer, poorer yadda, blah, blah, blah." She touched her heart. "I'm devastated that you've forgotten already. Surely you remember that bright July day, you in _virginal_ white, me dashing and debonair in a soft grey Armani, Mendelssohn's Wedding March playing in the family chapel. Any of this ringing a bell?" She flicked the side of her head.

_I still don't understand why you still need me?_

She touched a finger to her lips, smoothing their colour. "I like having you around, your mundane, empty, little thoughts. The despair, the loneliness, things I've never experienced before. And anyway I promised to share my life with you, in front of that stuttering fool of a vicar and your parents. I like to keep my promises."

_Like the one to destroy the Doctor. You can't, he's too strong for you._

A manic smile spread across her cheeks as she stepped closer to the mirror. "Ah, that's where you're wrong love; he's as breakable as this glass." She tapped a beat of four with her index finger on the polished surface. "As long as you know where to strike."

She caressed the cheek of her reflection. "And I can sense his weakness, his flaw."

She pressed her ear to the mirror. "Hush, can you hear it, palpitating in the rings of time? Another heart, so close to his own, I can almost reach across and…" She clenched her fist, pressing half moons into her palm. "… Crush it."

_Why do you hate him so much?_

"You humans always wanting reasons, always wanting to compartmentalise emotions."

She waved her hand dismissively glaring at her reflection. "He's a parody, a vagabond, a, a time-tramp, not even of pure blood…"

Lucy's pupils dilated. _No there's more to it than that._

She quickly squeezed her eyes shut. "Oh no, my love, don't try and wander off on your own, I wouldn't want to loose you now."

She opened her eyes and smiled. "Now there's a good…"

Pain. White, hot and searing as inept fingers scratched at the surface of _his_ mind.

Lucy fell to her knees as spasms of memory filled each cerebral impulse in an attempt to expose the dregs of emotions entombed in a pitiless soul. "Bitch!" The word decorated the glass in beads of spit.

_Parasite! _

She stood up, her face harsh and cruel, her eyes locking onto those of her reflection's. "Now, that's no way to treat a guest, is it, by plundering through their memories? You should be careful where you stick your nose, my dear; it might just get bitten off!" Her finger tapped the face in the mirror.

Lucy screamed from inside the Labyrinth of her captor's mind as everything went dark.

Boom, boom, boom, boom.

Boom, boom, boom, boom.

The deafening pound of blood crowded the silence, consuming her sanity, stifling her awareness.

Boom, boom, boom, boom.

She was suffocating, each vibration squashing the tiny spark that was her and she couldn't block out.

Boom, boom, boom, boom.

Then silence and nothing, even the coffin of darkness seemed to mock her.

She waited. There was nothing.

_Please, _she entreated. _I'm sorry_.

Laughter, soft and spiteful, echoed around and through her powerless consciousness, its amusement reminding her she was nothing but a flickering whim of a madman.

Something touched her, a hand on her shoulder, breath on her neck. But how could that be, she was nothing.

He's there, there in the brooding shadows of his self, darker than the bitter pitch that smothered her and she was terrified, yet…

He kissed her cheek and she longed for more, to feel, to be caressed, to hold and be held. She was nothing, neither dead nor alive, only buried and disposable.

A tear tumbled from her absent eyes and she could trace its path down her cheek, the irritation of its salty glide against her skin. Fingertips brushed it away, they were not her own. She was nothing.

He kissed her ear and she felt the steady beat of her heart as it betrayed her need for contact, her need to be.

'"Twinkle, twinkle, little bat, how I wonder where you're at? Up above the world so high, like a tea tray in the sky."' His voice was like silk and she welcomed the ominous ripples of each syllable on her skin.

He entwined his hand through her hair and yanked her head back; the sting of the pain felt good and she was ashamed. '"The time has come, my little friend, to talk of other things. Of shoes and ships and sealing wax, of cabbages and kings. And why the sea is boiling hot and whether pigs have wigs. Calloo, Callay, come run away, with the cabbages and kings."' His breath danced across her lips, humiliating her with its closeness as she desired the burn of his kiss.

"Oh, Lucy," he began, his lips pressing against her own.

_Please, _she begged unashamedly. _Touch me._

He began to laugh; it waltzed around her in agitated waves of humour. He moved away and she was alone in the nightmare, again.

She heard him draw a laboured breath. "So you want to know more about me. I can understand that and maybe, in retrospect, I've been a little remiss with you, my dear. After all, marriage is about sharing, the good and the bad. So, let us see how much your simple little brain can handle." He laughed again to torment her. "Let's begin at the beginning and go on till we come to the end: then stop."

His laughter faded and Lucy saw into his darkness and it blanched her essence. It was an endless pit, without mercy, without conscience. There were no shadows of humanity, only the grey grins of heartless skulls, dancing with death and destruction. "I have looked into the time vortex and it blinked first, I am its master and I have no equal. You, you are nothing."

Screams and more screams whirled around her like a flurry of baleful crows, swooping and pleading for compassion in a thousand different tongues. She was spinning in their whirlpool, plunging into the pit of his madness to burn in the blaze of his persecution. _ I am nothing, _she cried as the flames of his personal psychosis welcomed her.

"Say my name."

The word stuck in her throat. She could feel it scratching at her mouth, like a hungry trapdoor spider waiting in its silk lined burrow.

"Say it, say my name bitch!"

It pounced from her lips in a tangle of hairy legs. _Master._

"There we go, that wasn't so hard, was it?" She saw her reflection in the mirror again, she was wooden and empty.

_I am nothing. _She repeated sadly.

Her fingertips touched the glass and his voice mocked her. '"I wonder if I've been changed in the night? Let me think. Was I the same when I got up this morning? I almost think I can remember feeling a little different. But if I'm not the same, the next question is 'Who in the world am I?' Ah, that's the great puzzle!"'

From the tomb of her existence Lucy began to cry and laugh at the same time.

The Master clapped _her_ hands together with glee. "Oh, I love that feeling of hopelessness."

He inhaled. "Your sorrow and wretchedness, it gets me right here." He tapped her heart with a fist. "It almost moves me to tears, if I were a lesser being of course."

_Please let me go, I will go insane._

He brought her lips to the cold surface of the mirror and kissed the frosted image. '"We're all mad here."' He whispered, with a cold smile. "Now, shall we go to dinner, it's Tiramisu for dessert." He rubbed her hands together. "And then, if your father doesn't drone on we'll make it back upstairs for Bagpuss."

_And tomorrow?_

He lifted the Welsh phrase book from under a Penguin copy of 'Alice's Adventures In Wonderland.'

He raised an eyebrow. "Tomorrow we go to Cardiff and Torchwood."


	28. Epilogue

SHINE

Chapter 28

Epilogue

Neil's fingers lovingly tapped the keyboard with all the dexterity of a concert pianist. He trawled the list of folders, systematically opening each one and viewing their contents. He stifled a yawn and looked at the clock. It was twenty-one thirty. Tomorrow he would go to Cardiff; tomorrow he was allowed to hurt things, to bend and break them, fracture and shatter them and he hoped he would be able to wipe that whiter than white smile off Harkness' face.

'_Have you Macleaned your teeth today?' _Neil gave a snide laugh and then frowned, gazing at the charcoal business suit hanging from the door frame. He hoped it wouldn't get too bloody.

He smiled and without averting his eyes, opened his top drawer to playfully fondle the satin bra and briefs he would wear under his outfit. He checked the time, allowing himself exactly two minutes of the sensual pleasure his touch gave him, then he pushed the drawer shut and looked back to the screen.

He thought briefly of Professor Davis, his supervisor at Torchwood One, a small, ordinary, rotund man, who spoke lazily through the large gap in his front teeth and shared Art Garfunkel's crazy hairline. He had never understood Neil's 'needs', his wants, not like Miss Cole, she knew what he desired as if she could read the twists of his soul. Neil snorted, remembering how the middle-aged scientist had been 'deleted' by Cybermen, his chubby little corpse still convulsing long after he had been electrocuted. Perhaps they had taken his _witty_ 'Ctrl, Alt, Del,' t-shirt literally, they were part machine after all.

He rubbed his gritty eyes and sat back, letting his fingertips wonder between the buttons of his shirt to slowly coax a rise from his left nipple. His fingers then explored the palm-size bruise on his chest where Miss Cole's irritation had left its mark, he moaned softly with pleasure.

Her frenzies both terrified and captivated him just like the ring she wore. He flinched momentarily as his fingers touched its impression on his skin where it had blistered through the material of his shirt.

"Beautiful, is it not?" She had asked when he enquired as to its origins, dangling her fingers in front of him.

Neil had tried not to look but the gems drew him into the crimson swirl of their bloody hue, leeching all conscious thought from his mind. He had briefly tried to fight the flush of their influence, the bleed of their shadow but she held it to his gaze so he could fall into the seep of their encompassing colour.

"I like to call it the ring of resurgence," she had whispered with a soft smirk. "It's custom made, of course I had to make a few modifications to the original concept and also change the receptor, I mean who wears a pocket watch nowadays, but it wasn't difficult given my genius." She flexed her fingers and brought her hand to the murmur of his heartbeat.

He had struggled to shy away from its metal as it lay close to his skin but it had pinned him to the wall.

She had lowered her lips to his ear. "What I didn't foresee, however, given my phenomenal intelligence, was the stupidity of those around me. When you order someone to kill you, you expect that person to show a little bit of commonsense and loyalty, to make it a quick death, pain free." She had tapped her forehead, angrily. "One swift shot, to the head, that's all I asked, I've experienced death before Neil and between you and me that was the safest bet, but no, the stupid bitch had to shoot me in the stomach." She narrowed her eyes. "Which meant, I had to listen to that snivelling idiot drone on and on until I wasn't quite sure what was the more agonizing the hole in my stomach or the pitiful whining on my ear drums."

The ring had seemed to burn with her hatred and resentment, leaving its kiss welded upon his skin.

Neil had no idea what she had been talking about and he now knew better than to ask.

----------------

Jack closed the last of the files and sat back in the chair which welcomed the shift of his weight. He picked up his mug and swilled the last dregs of coffee around its base before gulping down the remains, the cold and bitter liquid stole down his throat with icy fingers making him grimace. He tapped its lip against his chin in idle thought, his hands warming the Earthenware with his own heat. He stretched out his legs, crossing them at the ankles and placed the mug down on his desk, pushing it away from the edge. He closed his eyes, fingering the loose change in his pockets, rubbing the indents on their surface, while listening to the steady hum of the hub. The rattle and scrape of chinaware brought him out of his reverie. He smiled and walked to the door, watching Ianto carefully place several used mugs between the span of his fingers.

Jack checked his watch; it was ten-thirty. "Go home Ianto," he said softly against the rhythmic purr of the Hub.

The young man spared him a glance, juggling his clutch of handles. "But sir, these…"

"Leave them and go home, I doubt a few dirty mugs are gonna concern them." Jack repeated.

Ianto hesitated, stealing the Captain's gaze. "Did you finish reading the files?" He asked.

Jack tapped his temple with his forefinger several times. "Yep."

"And the projection study on rift activity from Tosh?"

Jack gave a wan smile. "Yep that too…"

The Welshman placed his load down on Owen's desk, the collide of china resounded off the walls. He took a few steps toward the other man. "If you need me to break it down for you sir, I could…"

Jack sighed. "Ianto, go home," he said with certainty.

They shared a look of unease. Jack reached up and gripped the lintel, swinging his body weight forward. "I'd feel a whole lot better if I knew what we were facing." There was a tremor of exhaustion in his voice. "This visit doesn't sit well."

Ianto felt it too. "I'll see if I can contact my acquaintance in London sir," he offered.

Jack nodded, his focus back on the other man. "Do it from home Ianto, then get some sleep, I need you sharp for tomorrow."

The Welshman acknowledged this with a dip of his head.

The Television screen blinked lazily in the darkened room as the pink and white cloth cat gave his sage advice to a troupe of 'stop motion' mice. Lucy looked over her shoulder for a moment at the programme a full, childlike, smile gracing her lips. She then turned back to the laptop and the mismatch of alien tech on her dressing table, checking its mix of components with a gentle brush of her fingertips.

She stepped back to admire her work. "Bagpuss, dear Bagpuss, old fat furry cat-puss, wake up and look at this thing that I bring. Wake up, be bright, be golden and light, Bagpuss, oh hear what I sing."

She laughed and depressed the switch on the improvised unit. The mechanism blinked momentarily, then hissed and fell silent, the small spatter of lights housed between the keys died. An ugly scowl crossed Lucy's face as it twisted with rage.

A small screen mouse began to sing, its choral voice prompting a smile from Lucy as her inner fury faded. She delved into the drawers of the dressing table, retrieving a patched up sonic device. She set about repair of cannibalised technology, singing in tune with the mice as she worked. "We will find it. We will bind it. We will stick it with glue, glue, glue. We will stickle it every little bit of it. We will stick like new, new new."

Again she stepped back, watching the wisps of fine smoke twist to the ceiling as a result of the careful mend of the case-less unit. She pressed the button, this time the machine purred with renewed life, clutching at the space around it with lengthy tendrils of flashing light. Lucy clapped. "Now, let's send our message."

She placed her palm over what was once a mouse pad; the strands of light focusing their collective energy on the warm pulse of her of her hand. She grimaced as the sting of their lightening scored her skin, burning her across her knuckles and then rapidly up her arm. For a moment her face contorted, revealing the skull beneath the flesh and then illuminating the man beneath her soul. His face slit into a grin as a whirlpool formed on the open screen of the device. It turned slowly around its black core like a tropical storm on a weather map.

Small sparks of light were pulled from his face, pixelating the flesh. They danced in the air like fireflies before being sucked into the dark heart of the vortex.

The machine cut off and Lucy slumped back on the bed, looking at the welts on her hand. "This gets harder every time," she said with a laugh.

The Doctor stretched a leg out in front of him and smoothed a palm over the stubble on his chin. He looked up at the face of the moon, watching the tide of the clouds slice through her light. Around him the rock formations towered like giants, their bruised and battered features striking against the strawberry glow.

For him, it had been three weeks since his lunch with Ianto and since then he had been chasing ghosts. They came in his dreams, creeping into his thoughts, probing with their long fingers, whispering in soft voices, beckoning him to them and then hiding in the shadows, leaving him bereft. He couldn't remember when he'd last slept, when he'd last eaten, all he knew was that he needed to find their link, that he needed to sever it; it was dangerous.

And now, as he sat on the remains of what was once a great empire, he waited for them to come to him again on the squall of a planet damned by greed.

A small eddy drew itself in the dust of the dead civilization, spewing amber particles to dance in the darkness of both night and mind.

"I'm here," the voices whispered against the wind.

The Time Lord stood against the sombre sky, challenging the spectres. "Who are you?"

They laughed, surging around him, stirring the soil with their breath. "We are you. We are us. We are dead, yet we live. We are one, together."

They stopped, hovering just above him. The Doctor reached out to touch them but they evaded his fingertips.

"You're no fool, Doctor, you know who we are." The voices echoed around him in all the different incarnations of the same being.

"Yes." He knew; he had always known. He had just avoided saying it out loud. "Master."

The voices laughed once more and then disappeared into the obscurity.

The End

--------------------------

There is a sequel in the works but I would like to try and finish my JQ fic first.

Thank you all for sticking with me on this and I hope you have enjoyed the journey.

Pikexx


End file.
